It's Not Me It's You Modern P&P
by IAmNew
Summary: It's a truth universally acknowledged that a girl; suffocated by a ridiculous mother, a mentally absent father, three estrogen enraged sisters, and a wonderful, yet horribly shy twin sister; would have to be witty to survive the family circus.
1. How To Be A Twin

**A/N: I know, I know, P&P has been overused and manipulated, but how can you not love Lizzie and Darcy? Review and let me know how I'm doing. Thanks.**

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><p>Since birth and probably before, I've always caved whenever my amazingly wonderful twin sister batted her big blue eyes. It's just that <em>look-<em>she doesn't even have to say anything and I just give into her demands. How do you think she was born five minutes before me? Clearly she's been working on this technique since conception. Plus there was the time I ran out in front of a moving vehicle because Fluffy was suicidal and fled out the front door. ("Jane, I seriously could have died back there." "But, Lizzie, _the cat- _what about Fluffy's life? Plus, you did survive.") Okay, I didn't die, but still, I would do anything for my sister, because she's Jane – beautiful, sweet, and kindhearted, Jane.

When she asked if I would go with her to see some stupid musical, I was adamant that I would not even step foot in the theatre.

"No, Jane," I urged, "I hate musicals. Remember my glory days in _Pinocchio_ when they kicked me out because I was destroying 'the splendor' by making faces in the background? I'm scarred for life. I can't get those childhood memories back."

"Lizzie, you attacked Pinocchio," Jane reminded, scrubbing a cookie sheet as I peered into the refrigerator, pondering what we would eat for dinner.

"He stole my cookie during snack time – during rehearsal seemed like the perfect time to punch his lights out." I made a face as I saw a container of expired Greek yogurt sitting in the corner. I tossed it into the trash can, while mentally making a list of things to purchase on our next shopping trip. Food, in general, probably.

"Oh the glorious days of third grade." She handed me the cookie sheet and a towel. "Your turn to dry the dishes."

"Fine, fine, fine," I grumbled and yanked it out of her hands, before plopping down at the bar stool near the counter.

"So, will you go?" Jane asked softly.

"Noooo, I hate musicals, remember? I just emphasized that fact. Plus, this musical is bound to have children running through the aisles popping up in your face."

"I won the tickets, though. They were _free."_

Of course, I'm the one to blame – sort of – because she kept complaining about how she should call in to the radio and answer the question to win. And, because I love my sister dearly, I had to encourage her. _"Oh, Jane, just call, you know the answer." "But, what if I sound stupid on air?" "People will be laughing at your expense for years to come."_

"Aren't you the one always saying that we poor college kids should take advantage of freebies?" Jane asked, her eyes nearly bulging with excitement, because she thinks she has me roped in. "Remember, we shared a womb."

"_The children, _Jane! And, why do you have to use that as blackmail? _We shared a womb,"_ I mocked her favorite line and she pinched my nose fondly. I had to love her.

First off, Jane has that whole "skipping through flowers, singing happy songs" vibe. And where that whole peppy thing is usually disconcerting, on Jane it is catching, because she's just so darn cute. You'd think I'd be jealous since she is the most beautiful of us five sisters, but you can't be. She doesn't even fully realize that she is beautiful, which makes it so much harder to think bad about her. Plus, she has that terribly overbearing motherly instinct where when you come home from a bad day, you want to crawl onto her lap and tell her _everything _and let her stroke your hair or rub your back.

"Did I mention the crappy quality?" I spouted.

"Crappy quality?" Jane repeated, bewildered.

"Cinderella looks like a frickin' man. Have you seen the billboards around town? That's just disturbing. Imagine the dreams crushed when they realize that Cinderella's a man. How are parents going to explain kissing scenes between Cinderella and Prince Charming? I don't want to be there when the young viewers have their hopes shattered when they see some nice male action on stage."

Jane looked at me with big doe eyes, torn between perplexity and amusement. "Lizzie, come on."

"No, I refuse!" I stood up and crossed my arms over my chest like a petulant child. "I will not go!"

"Lizzie, _please_." Now the whining has begun. And she's batting those ocean eyes again.

I stomped my feet for dramatics and sigh loudly, annoyed. "Fine! But if you won an aisle seat, it's all yours!"

Jane squealed, throwing her arms around me. "Thank you, thank you, thank you!"

"Air!" I managed and she let me go, smoothing her shirt. "Love you, twin!" Jane kissed my forehead and padded down the hall to her room.

_Manipulator, she preys on the weak._


	2. Of Prancing Children and Grumpy Old Men

"Aisle seat is all yours, Janey." I push her aside and plop down into my seat. She sticks out her tongue and gently arranges her dress before gracefully taking a seat. Jane was the child who wore princess dresses and played tea party; me, I was the one hanging upside down from a tree in the backyard, while Mom was watching from the kitchen wondering where she'd went wrong.

"Oh, my poor nerves, Lizzie's hanging from the tree again, she'll never catch a husband that way." It went something like that from Fran Bennet, mother of five, wife to Tom Bennet, mentally absent father. After the first five years of life, I think I started ignoring what Mom said, because it was usually something about how I drove her nerves to the breaking point – which I tend to do. Even though Dad's one of those father's who lurks in his study, trying to ignore his family, he always let me come in and crash his party with Tolstoy or Faulkner when Mom's annoying qualities really began to grate on _my_ nerves.

Jane's cheering brought me back to reality. "Oh, I'm so excited."

"Joy," I say with a frown. "Wait! I should've sat on the aisle seat and tripped the prancing children."

Jane rolls her eyes. "I'll be sure to push you out into the aisle and have the kids trample on you."

Mocking an appalled state, I clutch my heart. "Jane, this wickedness is very unbecoming on you."

She ruffles my hair and pulls out the program. I glance around the theatre and watch people trying to find their seats. I pick out a redheaded man smirking at a brooding man with black curls and crystal blue eyes. They were in suits and bickering to each other. Oh, an unhappy gay couple – how nice. Red pulls out his tickets and scans the seats around him, before pointing in our direction and dragging Grumpers McGee. _Great._ Red is practically leaping down the aisle, while Grumpers McGee is lagging with a ticked off expression etched into his features.

They stop a few feet back, but because I'm a professional eavesdropper, I make sure my antenna is getting good reception as I lean my ear in their direction without staring or making it obvious that I care what they are saying.

"Clearly, they're stupid, those are our seats," Grumpers McGee spat out. I could sense that his face had morphed back into a scowl. Not that I go for the twinkly guys, but if his face wasn't sagging with distaste, he could've passed for the tall, dark, and handsome role.

"Maybe they misread their tickets," Red reassures, "they seem reasonable – I'll just show them our tickets and explain. The blonde seems understanding and the brunette has –"

"She seems like a complete airhead and when's the last time she brushed her hair? Maybe she's homeless, unemployed – _something_."

Ok, I have curls. It's not my fault, I blame genetics.

Jane hears the rude comment from behind and glances at me – probably praying that I clamp down on my tongue – just as I spin around in my seat and glare at Grumpers McGee. "Do you have a problem with homeless people, Grumpers, do you?"

He blanches and Red peers at him quickly, before smiling apologetically. "I'm so sorry." He glares at Grumpers and says something I can't hear.

Grumpers shakes his head and pulls his cell phone from his pocket, punching the keys down in fury. The poor phone. Red rolls his eyes and indicates to his tickets. "Our tickets say E13 and E14 and you are in our seats," Red explains politely, completely unaffected by his friends' attitude problem.

Jane's eyes widen. "Oh, I'm such a ditz!"

At this I see Grumpers roll his eyes; I throw him a menacing glare and he immediately sobers.

Fumbling for the tickets, Jane pulls them out from her bag and then her brow furrows. "Wait, our tickets say E13 and E14, also."

"Are you kidding me?" Grumpers McGee nearly shouts. "I told you that winning those tickets from that radio station wasn't legitimate! It's a scandal!"

"Whoa, calm down, there Grumpers," I state with a smirk. I can tell he is seething by the way he clenches his fists and his face turns an ugly shade of purple. "Stop calling me that!" He spits out and I cock my brow at him.

"Maybe I should call you Barney. Minus the green dots, your face is almost the same color at the moment." I flash him a pleasant smile, while inwardly wanting to karate chop him in two.

"You won tickets, also?" Jane gushes, oblivious to me. "I was dying to come, so I called in during the contest!"

"Me too!" Red says emphatically.

Jane giggles and casts her eyes downward. My mouth drops open and Grumpers McGee shoves Red. "Charlie!"

"Clearly this is a sign for us to go home, Jane. Don't fight our destiny – Cinderella's not in the cards for us." I start to stand, but Jane holds me down. I half expect her to rip out some rope and tie me to the seat. "I want to stay, Lizzie."

The theatre is starting to really become crowded, so I sigh, wanting to please my sister. "Let's find an usher and explain the situation."

"Finally, you say something intelligent," Grumpers complains.

Standing, I size him up and poke his chest. "Um, first off, where I haven't brushed my hair or had access to a bath because I'm homeless, all of that grease and scum has been chomping on my brain cells. Plus, since I'm unemployed, I clearly haven't used any of my smarts lately, because I've been too busy dumpster diving and working the corner to feed the children. So, it's not my fault I'm unintelligent, it's because people like you, Suits, that steal jobs from the underprivileged _college_ students."

Red – or Charlie – as Grumpers calls him, chuckles and punches Grumpers arm. "Come on, Darce, lighten up."

Charlie then chases down an usher and begins explaining the situation. Praying that they will tell us to leave or ya'know throw us out of the theatre, they of course, willingly give us the worst possible seats in the theatre – right up front! With fifteen minutes to spare, Charlie introduces himself as I find myself sitting next to Grumpers. How it happened, I'm not sure.

"Sorry, things got crazy back there. I'm Charlie Bingley and that lovely fellow is Will Darcy – or Grumpers – that name suits him."

"Oh, really? I pegged him right on the spot?" I glance at him as he is removing his suit jacket and loosening his tie. "I was hoping to give him the benefit of the doubt, but I couldn't get past his moody exterior or the fact that he insulted my intelligence. I'm a great judge of character apparently. Who would've thought?"

"Do you ever shut up?" Will complains with a huff.

"Is it that time of the month? Do you need some Midol?" He opens his mouth, but nothing comes out.

"I'm Jane and this is my twin sister – don't mind Lizzie – she is a menace to society," Jane says affectionately.

"Aw, shucks!" I gush and bat my eyes.

Charlie chuckles. "I would've never guessed you two were twins."

"You don't see the resemblance? I mean, what threw you off? Did my wonderful charm or Jane's beauty make you realize that we are complete opposites?"

"Obviously your lack of manners," Will mutters.

"Darcy, man, cut it out," Charlie chides, before shaking his head in humiliation. "Don't mind him, he hates human life."

"I couldn't tell," I say dryly, before Jane shushes me as the house lights begin to fade.

Then the singing began. At that point, I couldn't decide which I hated more – Darcy's personality, or lack of, _or_ the children popping up in my face, screeching like monkeys.

"This is why I didn't want to come," Darcy murmurs, "the children singing and spitting in my face."

"Oh, really? This is why I didn't want to come. I didn't want to sit next to a brooding Neanderthal."

"Do you have an off switch or something? The insults just keep coming," he says, his blue eyes searching my face. He looks contorted between irritation and perplexity.

"Really, I'm a sweet girl. It's just people like you who really annoy me," I say pleasantly, before tossing my hair and sending him a syrupy smile, just to infuriate him.

"Same here," Darcy snaps.

"You're precious, aren't you?" I murmur.

Who was this guy? Seriously?

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><p>"My ears are still ringing from that garbage musical," I complain, laying my head down on my pillow and curling up into a ball.<p>

"I thought it was lovely, a great way to spend my Friday night," Jane comments.

"You got his number, didn't you?"

Jane smiles shyly. "He was so nice, Lizzie."

"I'm glad. At first I thought that he and Darcy were gay."

"You didn't!" Jane slips off her sweater and sits at the edge of my bed. Her eyes are dancing; she's happy.

"I was trying to pass time and my imagination got the best of me." Rubbing my eyes sleepily, I started to yawn. "Too bad the radio station screwed us over. I think I would feel better if I'd never met Will Darcy."

Jane looks away quickly and I have to be somewhat gracious for the circumstances, because she found a decent guy, yet there is that large ratio of dislike for Darcy.

"If you get married to Charlie, I'll be ecstatic, but if he ends up being a Darcy clone, I will have to kill him and curse the day we met him." I reach for my feet, remove my socks and chuck them into my dirty clothes hamper. "Which was already cursed enough – I met Will Darcy, remember?"

"How could I forget? All I heard was Lizzie's motor mouth running the entire time during the play about his bad behavior." Jane says, smirking.

I laugh. "No, you and Charlie were too busy whispering about how beautiful the play was."

"True." Jane bit her lip. "Charlie's great…"

"Be careful, Janey."I watch her nod and flitter to her room, practically walking on air.


	3. Danger: DO NOT GO HOME

"He was just so rude, ya'know, Char?" I picked at my baby corn in the stir fry I had bought for lunch. "I just know how I feel about this. She's so naïve and Charlie's a nice guy, but his friend really took the gold for biggest butthole."

Monday, after my weekend spent listening to Jane's one-sided phone conversations with Charlie, I met for lunch with my best friend, Charlotte. I gave her the complete run through of the Friday night scenario.

Charlotte had been putting up my shenanigans since preschool, when I stole her Barbie lunch box. It beckoned to me. Charlotte is odd and quirky, but stealing someone's lunch box is a real bonding experience. It's like a friendship covenant – really seals the deal. Can't ditch her now; we've been through too much.

She cups her heart shaped face in her palms and her short blonde hair frames her face as she watches me, content.

"That bad?" Charlotte asks sympathetically.

"Chyeah," I mumble. After taking a sip of my tea, I bite my lip.

"So, are you pouting over this guy and his insults?" She asks, launching a fortune cookie at my head.

"What? No? I could take him any day." I sigh. "The infamous Fran wants Jane and me to go home for dinner tonight." I scoop the plastic wrapped cookie off of the floor and pop the wrapper open.

"Ew. Don't go." Charlotte smiles at me.

"I would, but she's pulling the "you never come home and visit" card. We're stuck. I really wouldn't mind going home if Mom wasn't like, 'Who are you seeing today?' or 'Have you gained weight?' Then, there's the whole drama with Kitty and Lydia. Plus, Mary is confused about life still. And, last there's Dad, trying to make it through life unscathed by the women who annoy him. Besides me – well, Jane doesn't bother him either, but he loves me best. Not going to lie."

Charlotte blinks. "This is why I stopped going to your house years ago. It's like the freaking circus."

"I know, right? Jane and I are normal – well, I guess I'm not normal seeing as I'm homeless and unemployed."

"Oh, don't let one schmuck's large ego ruin your life," Charlotte rants. "Just support Jane." She bit her lip. "Just be careful what you say 'yes' to in the future."

"That fairy will drag me along, kicking and screaming, no matter what. She has no mercy."

Charlotte laughs. "Remember, she did take that women's self defense course freshmen year."

"I know," I lament, "That's why I fear the old, wise sibling. My life is in her hands."

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><p>"Oh, Jane, Lizzie, my girls have come home!" Fran was too busy squeezing the life out of me to realize that I was clearly carrying bags of take out and that she was sloshing the food every which way.<p>

"Ma, cut it out, it's not as if we live far away. It's like, two hours, at that." I grumble and she releases me and goes back to hugging Jane. Good. Mom finally releases Jane and gives us both the once-over.

"Lizzie, that blouse is looking a little snug – did you not notice how the buttons were straining around your chest?"

I glance down and then send her a wry smile. "Why, Mother, no, I didn't notice _at all_." Mainly because when I was buttoning up my shirt, I thought that it was bulky, but Jane insisted that I wear it since it matched my green eyes. "But, I'll take it as a compliment that you are admiring my bust."

Jane giggles. "I must, I must, increase my bust." Mom pats Jane, completely missing her Judy Blume reference.

"Dear, your chest will come in someday – you are only twenty one."

Rolling my eyes, I head for the kitchen – leaving Jane in the lion's den – and pass Kitty and Lydia fighting over a pair of blue jeans on the staircase.

"Hello to you, too. I only haven't seen you in, oh, two months? This is the reception I get. Mm, thanks." I continue down the hall. "Plus, I brought food, doesn't that even get a hello? You know that without Jane and me you guys would starve."

"Yes, we're perfectly aware, dear, that's why we invited you home for dinner. We knew it would be the only decent meal we would have until Thanksgiving." Tom Bennet, if not the most detached father, is where I get my wonderful wit. Yes, the sod hides in his study, but I'm his favorite, so he gets my vote for father of the year. He's leaning against the island in the middle of the kitchen, holding a mug of coffee.

"Dad, we just picked up Chinese," I say, while I begin to arrange the cartons on the counter. "It's no five star meal."

"From the best Chinese restaurant in town," he reminds. "Lizzie, I've accepted that the only thing your mother can cook is microwavable dinners." Stealing a cheese wonton from one of the cartons, I try to smack his hand away.

"_Hey,_ those are mine," I state, stealing the box and hiding it in a cupboard.

"I gave you life, so I deserve two more." Dad tries to maneuver around me, but I block his path.

"Technically, Mom carried Jane and me for nine months, so…" I hear footsteps. "They're coming, they'll see we have – "

"Did you buy cheese wontons?" Lydia asks, bouncing into the kitchen and hugging me. Kitty follows behind, her nose wrinkling. "Chinese food? Seriously, Lizzie?"

"Definitely not, Lydia!" That was a close call, my cheese wontons almost died. "Seriously, Kitty?" I mock. "Starve – I cannot please everyone."

Dad winks at me and saunters out of the kitchen, just as Mom and Jane came in. Estrogen enflamed women occupying kitchen? Dad flees. Mom obviously must have heard about Charlie, because she is _ecstatic_.

"Oh, Jane is he rich? Does he have nice cars? A good family?" Mom is basically jumping up and down and clapping her hands.

"Better than ours," I grumble, when a hand thwacks me upside the head.

"Thanks for saying hello," Mary complains, crossing her arms over her chest and raising her brows. Her hair is cherry red today.

"Why, don't you like the world's prettiest fire truck. Or, a fire hydrogen, but dog's pee on those, so I guess that isn't a compliment." I bite my lip as I examine the tragedy that has become my second favorite sister. "Could we go back to brown hair? Even blonde was better than this garbage. Red is not your color, Mary."

"If I didn't seriously love you and your honesty, I would probably push you out in front of a moving vehicle." Mary concludes, before hugging me oddly, because Mary doesn't do physical expressions.

"Jane already tried that," I remind, pointing my finger at her knowingly.

"What are you talking about?" Jane asks, mortified. "When did I ever try to kill my twin?"

"Senior year, Fluffy, speeding mini-van," I cryptically answer. Jane rolls her eyes, but smiles fondly.

"Oh, Fluffy, what a sweet cat," Lydia reminisces, then grabs a plate and piles the food on.

Kitty follows. "I don't remember Fluffy."

"Remember? He hated you and tried to kill you in your sleep," Lydia states as they move to the dining room.


	4. Stab You With A Fork

**A/N: Thanks for the reviews so far. I would love to have more so I know if this is worth continuing. Well, enjoy. :)**

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><p>Sitting down to dinner and having the two girls and my mother being loud and obnoxious, reminds me of why I avoid coming home. Ugh. When there are seven people in your family, it's hard for everyone to completely get along. Personalities flare and words – or objects – are tossed around.<p>

Dear old, Tom, the patriarch of our wonderful Bennet clan, is an ignorant hermit. He's a History professor and loves every minute of it, but when his day is over, he hides in the study, refusing to be a part of familial life. Not that I blame him; I tried to escape unscathed from the Bennet house also. Dad is a good twelve years older than Mom and, although he loves her, I know sometimes he goes into the study and beats himself over the head with a book, wondering why he ever got married.

Fran, my terrific mother – please ignore the sarcasm in my tone – is crazy. I've never doubted that she's loved any of us, but her obnoxiousness is distressing. She wants the best for us, which I get, what mother doesn't want that? It's just how she projects herself that annoys me. Her loudmouth – which I probably inherited from her, yet I control myself – frightens and ticks people off. She's just… too much.

Then, of course, Jane and Lizzie came along, Jane being five minutes older than me. I'm closest to Jane – partially because we we've been together since conception, but we were alone for two years before Mary was born, so we endured the whole twin escapades of matching outfits and all of that crap, before being tossed aside in the excitement of a new baby.

Mary is nineteen and my second favorite, not that I should admit to having partiality to a sister, but it can't be helped. Mary and I actually look more alike than Jane and I. Mary, Lydia and I actually favor my dad, while Kitty and Jane look like Mom. I get along with Mary, because she listens to me. I guess that sounds sort of trivial, but growing up with five sisters, it was hard to get a word in edgewise. Of course, Jane knows _everything_, but I think that comes from that special sense that twins have towards each other. They just _know _things. Weird, right? With Jane, I don't ever have to say a word, because of twin telepathy; but, with Mary I'm speaking and being heard, which ya'know builds confidence when Mom can't hear you speaking because Kitty and Lydia are screaming about who gets to date the cute boy.

Kitty is the follower and Lydia is the leader, yet the baby of the family. Kitty is seventeen and Lydia is sixteen and they are close in that 'I'm going to steal your clothes and your boyfriend' sort of way. Being my baby sisters, I love them. I'm glad that Jane and I moved out to go to college, because someone would've died if I had not left. Probably Lydia. Just saying. Lydia and I are complete opposites, yet we are exactly alike. It's ironic, really. But, I think it's because I can look at myself and see Lydia sometimes, it is frightening to know that she has _my _tendencies.

Despite our dysfunctional qualities, I can't really say that I hate my family, they just annoy me to the point of considering suicide. Then Jane quotes Tolstoy and I tell her that line is overused and clichéd and she'll say "I was trying to help, Lizzie. Take my lovely literary reference as a lifesaver being tossed out to pull you back in." After that, I roll my eyes and gently shove my breakable sister.

As we are in the middle of dinner, Jane's phone starts ringing – that terrible Party Rock Jam. I've tried to get Jane to listen to _real _music, but she refuses to delve into anything that has meaning or depth. Everyone at the table immediately freezes and stares at her.

"Jane, dear, are you going to get that? It's probably _Charlie._" Mom is leaning over the table and I'm imagining her crawling across the table and shoving her ear up against Jane's phone.

"Um, yeah, uh, sure," Jane mutters and glances at me, reaching into her pocket and answering the call. "Hello? Oh, hi Charlie, could I – ?"

"So, Dad…how's the food?" Someone has to save Jane from embarrasment.

Catching my drift, he animatedly starts a catalogue about Chinese food. "Well, now that you mention it, I've been dying to have Mr. Wong's Chinese. I love their fried rice and those noodles. Their chicken and broccoli is excellent also. I can't say I've ever tried their baby squid salad, but just the look of it makes me ill ,honestly…Lizzie, this diversion isn't working, you know that, right?"

"It was worth a shot," I say and take a drink.

"No, next Saturday night is great…Of course, she'll come," Jane agrees, glancing at me. "No, she would love to hang out with Will."

"No, Jane, no, I refuse!" I hiss and Dad smirks at me.

"Oh no, Charlie, you pick…Of course, I love Italian…Lizzie won't mind…" Jane is smiling from ear to ear.

"Blind date?" Dad questions and ruffles my hair. "My little girl is growing up so fast."

Mom's eyes flicker to me. "Lizzie, go out with the young man. You need to be married within the next year if you're going to start a family in a proper time frame."

"A proper time frame?" Mary asks, scoffing. "Lizzie doesn't need a husband – unless he would be submissive. And deaf, Lizzie might cause him to have a coronary.

"Thank you, Mary." I turn to Mom. "You don't know this guy! First off, he's a jackass! Secondly, he has perfectly coiffed hair and wears suits!"

"Oh, we definitely can't have that. Lizzie needs someone who wears beanies and chucks and has scruff. He needs to match her wit," Dad jokes and I punch his shoulder. "By the way, watch your language."

"You're one to talk, old man." He reaches for me and messes up my hair; I try to push him away and he starts pinching my cheeks. "Stop, Dad, I'm an adult – I pay my own bills."

"You guys are weird," Kitty says, mouth full, chomping on her fried cat, or chicken. Whatever you prefer.

"I'll call you later," Jane says, her face soft. "Ok, bye." She ends the call and maneuvers the phone back into her pocket.

"No, you hang up first – oh, no, you hang up first!" Lydia teases. She smiles fondly at Jane and I'm shocked to see that she looks nearly identical to me. We could seriously pass as the twins, despite the five year age gap; but then I remember that Lydia is too ridiculous and a flirt and while I may be a ridiculous individual, I like to think that I have some intelligence.

"I didn't say that!" Jane defends, her smile permanently in place.

"But you wanted to," Dad says, smiling over his glass.

"Oh, Jane, a rich boy!" Mom cheers before remembering that I will never produce her any grandchildren. "Lizzie, you have to go. For Jane."

"Yes, Lizzie, for Jane," Dad reminds. "We have to do everything for Jane."

Jane bats her eyes and puts her hands on her face, her smile extra silly. "Lizzie, please, for me, your twin."

"Kitty, we should have been twins," Lydia interjects, leaning over the table to look at Kitty, who shakes her head and rolls her eyes. "Then we could have shared our clothes and secrets and _everything._"

"You guys do that now," Jane reminds. "Lizzie and I just share brainwaves. So, could you answer my question? Please, just go, ignore Will."

"Remember, you two did share a womb," Dad reminds as I clench my fork tightly in my hand. "That entitles you to be a part of every single event in the other's life."

Clearly no one realized what I had to deal with Friday night. Just looking at the man caused my blood pressure shot up. It wasn't a safe situation to send me to dinner with Darcy – my heath was at risk.

"Lizzie, this is important to Jane. It is a possibility she could marry this man and you could also marry the other – even if he is completely horrible. You need to think of the family." Mom fluffs her hair. "Think of the things you could do for us. Send Kitty and Lydia to college, move us closer to the city, and purchase us a new car…" She trails off, fingering the tablecloth and smiling unabashed.

Kitty and Lydia are watching the debate go down, looking thrilled at the conversation. Mary is biting her lip, hiding the smirk that is dying to slip upon her lips.

"Yes, Lizzie, the family," Dad says. "Think of us poor souls. Help Jane's future marriage. Meddle in her life, cause chaos."

"I will stab you with this," I insist, waving it in my dad's face, ignoring my ranting mother and the other's nearly bursting with joy. "I know a girl that stabbed her brother in the arm with a fork and I am willing to give it a shot. The fork was lodged into his arm for two hours before the parents came home and took him to the ER – don't push my buttons."

"Honey, I wouldn't dare push your buttons. I was the one who had to pull you off of Don Higgins – among many others throughout your childhood – when he broke up Jane, remember? I'm sure you are the reason he still lives with his parents, crying himself to sleep every night and having nightmares of the day you beat his sorry butt."

I shrug. "Could be, I have many talents."

"Lizzie, the womb," Mary asserts, trying to get us back on the same page as our conversation has wandered too far away.


	5. Lie Your Face Off

**I'm not trying to sound like an ungrateful brat, but is no one reading this story? I would love more feedback, even though I love those who have reviewed, but more reviews would be beneficial. (Thanks to those of you who have reviewed.) Reviews would let me know that I'm not just wasting my time, yet I'm enjoying writing about these two, because Elizabeth and Darcy are amusing characters. Please review. :) **

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><p>Will Darcy and Charlie Bingley have been best friends since infancy or, probably more specifically, the day that Charlie broke Will's fire truck by throwing it down the staircase. They had been three at the time and Will remembered smacking Charlie in the face, before little hands started pummeling the other in a cute attempt at mashing the other's face in. When both of their mothers pulled them a part, they immediately went back to playing together peacefully – or as peacefully as little boys play together without killing the other.<p>

Their parents had been close friends and had moved to the States from England right after high school. When Fitzwilliam Darcy and Charles Bingley I graduated from Yale University, with barely a penny to their names, they started Netherfield Graphics and it rose to be one of the best well known graphic companies in the nation. When Fitzwilliam and Rowena Darcy were killed in a car crash, Charlie's father left the company to both Will and Charlie before Charles and Beatrice Bingley returned to their native land, completely devastated at the loss of their dearest friends.

Will Darcy had been twenty at the time of their death and had been thrown into raising his sixteen year old sister, Georgie. Now four years later, still deeply missing his wonderful parents, Will had moved on and had been able to graduate with his degree and successfully gain his Master's while still trying to run his late parents' company. Georgie was attending college and had persuaded her older brother to let her try living alone in a nearby apartment.

At the age of twenty four, Will was still socially retarded and lacking greatly in the personality department when it came to meeting new people. He couldn't help it. No matter how hard he tried not to fall behind that moody exterior and act like himself, it was impossible. Charlie constantly teased him about it – even Charlie's obnoxious sister Caroline had made sad jokes at his expense. Georgie and his closest cousin, Richard loved the chance to get a laugh at his expense.

So, Will begrudgingly allowed Charlie to drag his behind to see _Cinderella _and had been pouty since Charlie first walked in the office the morning of the play. Their conversations throughout the day had consisted of Charlie being over-talkative and Will alternating between glaring and grunting unhappily.

"Dude, stop," Charlie finally pleaded. "I know you don't want to go, but still, lay off this PMSing crap. It's disconcerting, man."

Will narrowed his eyes and shot arrows into Charlie's heart, hoping to crush his happy soul. No such luck. The ecstatic ginger was always smiling and giving nice words and compliments. People loved Charlie – he was just absolutely adorable and genuine – no one could have terrible feelings against him. Hell, he should have been Mr. America.

Inside the theatre, Will had been ominous and pissed off and he had always worn his ugly attitude like a sweater. As they stood in the aisle of the theatre with Charlie trying to find their seats, he spotted a pretty brunette looking around the theatre. The first thing he noticed was her large cat like eyes; they were emerald green and had thick lashes surrounding them. She gave them the once over and he scowled even more. He hated getting examined like a piece of meat.

"Darce, I don't know where Row E is," Charlie stated, looking around at people passing, trying to search for an usher.

"Reason 5,467 why we shouldn't have come," Will had snapped and mumbled a strand of curses angrily under his breath.

Charlie walked a little bit further and suddenly found row E, but instead of their seats being available the green eyed girl and a blonde were in their seats.

"Dammit," Will muttered, "Those idiots stole our seats."

And, then the whole evening went downhill. Will had never met anyone like Elizabeth Bennet and he found he had never been so severely annoyed or suicidal. That girl made him want to do terrible things. It also didn't help that from aside her nonstop chatter and sarcastic remarks, there were children squawking in his face, which definitely did not add to his bad mood.

To top of one of the finest nights of life off – enter scoff here – Charlie was literally floating on their walk downtown for drinks.

"Will, I've _never_ met anyone like her. No one is like Jane. I think I'm in love," Charlie said, slightly breathless.

William Darcy, Grade-A hermit and social retard, wanted to grab Charlie's shirt by the collar and massacre him. "Charlie, you just met the girl, she could be a sexual predator or a serial killer. Can we take this slow? You do this every week. How many girls have you been "in love" with this month? Jenna, Sarah, Megan, Maria?" Hell, that might have just been this week! Just…take things slow."

"You just hate her sister," Charlie said, while trying to step around him. "This is different this time, I just know, I can feel it. She's not like the rest – she didn't care that I was rich!"

_That's because she doesn't know anything about you. Love takes time. _Will glared at his best friend, but said nothing else. He was tired of saving Charlie Bingley's ass.

* * *

><p>Will was sitting at his desk on Tuesday morning, a few days after he had been dragged to hell and back by Elizabeth Bennet, when Charlie walked in whistling happily. All he needed was a top hat and some tap shoes to complete his cheery expression. Darcy was officially freaked out. What was wrong with the Bennet twins? One was possessed and the other was a rapist, luring in his best friend. Why did Charlie attract the odd ones?<p>

"Hello, Will, how are you today?" Charlie asked, sitting across from Will's desk, grinning like the Cheshire cat.

"I was great until you walked in and let all of your joyfulness permeate my miserable life," Will had muttered, skimming through the papers on his desk.

"This is why we are friends, Darce," Charlie quipped. "I bring you happiness to your dark soul."

Will sighed. "Don't you have a job to do?"

"Yep, but I have a business proposal for you." Charlie leaned in closer. "You see, I received word that a very important person was interested in having dinner with us next Saturday. It will be a good thing for our future."

"Who?" Will questioned. "That graphics company on the West Coast we wanted to buy out?"

"Let's go with that," Charlie said repressing a grin. "Look your best – we have to impress them."

"Four years of trying to run this company smoothly and better ourselves we are finally succeeding," Will said, grinning. "I'm in."

Little did Will know, that the moment Charlie stepped out of the door, he was trying to ponder on the exact moment when he should break the news to Will that there was no business proposal. Just a wonderful – wonderful for Charlie at least – evening planned with a wonderful, Jane Bennet and a sharp Elizabeth Bennet.

Charlie grinned. "I'll think about that later."


	6. How To Double Date

Number 1: Will Darcy was a jackass.

Number 2: I didn't see the reason why I, Elizabeth Bennet, must spend my evening suffering with the arrogant and pretentious person in question, but I did know that I wanted my sister happy. Everyone needed a chance at true love, especially Jane.

Number 3: Will Darcy was easy to aggravate and it meant more amusement on my part.

So, I was more than willing to enjoy myself by causing Darcy agony. It was a two for one deal, which if I had to suffer, I was more reluctant to know that Jane was getting the higher end of the deal. Jane, although ecstatic, was a bit of a mess, but who could blame her? She was new at this whole dating thing. Being twenty one is different than fifteen or sixteen and at this point, something really could manifest from a relationship. Who knows? Charlie Bingley and Jane Bennet might end up married…BUT, that would just be completely overanalyzing a first date.

* * *

><p>"Lizzie, we need to cancel," Jane says, pacing in my doorway. "I'm not ready for this, ya'know? He has a job, he's seen the world; I'm young, still in college, basically jobless – getting extra cash at the university library doesn't count, Lizzie," she snaps, holding a hand up to shush me. "I should cancel…I should tell him I need to wait, travel, settle down."<p>

I drop my mascara on the dresser and move to my frantic sister. Grabbing her shoulders, I get her to face me. She's so beautiful, even though her eyes are bulging out of her head in utter fear. "Jane, dear, this is one date. You two just met basically, he hasn't proposed. I'm not saying that couldn't happen, but let's just focus on dinner, not on children, grandchildren, whether or not he's been saving for retirement or if you should get AARP memberships. OK?

Jane nods, running her hands through her hair, her body still tense. "Let's take deep breaths, Jane."

Her eyes flitter to mine and she starts to laugh. "I'm being ridiculous, aren't I?"

"A little, but its fine," I kiss her forehead and chuckle. "We're so different, isn't it odd?"

"Yes, because I would never be able to run my mouth like you do – or be so judgmental," Jane chides pointedly.

"Will Darcy does deserve to be judged – he's an asshole," I snap.

"Please be nice," Jane insists, taking my hands and squeezing them. "I want this to work out, okay?"

"Jane, when have I ever disappointed you?" I pat her cheek and turn on my heel. "So, should I pick up a sweater from the Salvation Army and go barefoot? Oh, even better, I won't wear any bra or panties!" I smack my forehead ironically. "Why didn't I think of that sooner? Then, I'll wear some yoga pants and a shirt that make it extremely obvious that I'm letting it all hang out; plus I definitely should make sure there are questionable stains on my clothing. I am supposedly _homeless_."

Jane rolls her eyes and walks back to her room. A moment later she yells, "At least wear undergarments!"

* * *

><p>"Lovely evening we're having tonight," Charlie greets. He is in jeans and a gray button up shirt, looking slightly uncomfortable, but masking it well. Walking behind him is Darcy, looking gloomy and out of place in a navy suit.<p>

"It's gorgeous out," Jane beams, before waving to Darcy. "Nice to see you, Will."

Her blonde curls have been straightened and hang prettily down her back. She finally chose a pretty blue cotton dress and a thin sweater. I've always been used to Jane getting the compliments, but it's because she deserves them. She's good on the inside and out, ya'know? Me, on the other hand, did not resort to shopping at the Salvation Army, but instead wore a floral print dress with buckled boots and a long sweater.

But, I'm sure if jackass looks close enough he'll find something that screams "homeless bum!"

Will nods curtly to Jane's greeting and glances at me, which makes me want to scratch out his eyeballs. I give myself a pep talk: OK, Lizzie, Will Darcy is an idiot, he hates human life and you, especially. Don't say anything that could be used against you in a court of law as defamation of character. He can and will sue you for every penny you're worth. Ignore every word he says, because he knows nothing. Pep talk complete; I can now conquer the world.

"Hi Charlie, how are you?" I ignore the glaring sod beside me and smile at the ginger man.

'I'm great," Charlie reassures, offering his arm to Jane. "Let's go get our seats. Have you two been here before?"

"Nope, we unemployed, homeless people usually try to get the remaining crumbs from litter on the streets when dumpster diving is unproductive. Then, if necessary we mug little old ladies and try to make the money last between us," I say as I follow Jane and Charlie to our booth.

As the words fly out of my mouth, I realize that I'm probably not going to be able to control myself. Will Darcy is just too easy to harass.

"Don't listen to Lizzie, she just likes to talk," Jane says and Charlie chuckles.

Darcy maneuvers around me quickly and makes a mad dash to sit next to Charlie. They make eye contact and a silent message passes between them: "You jackass – I want to sit next to the beautiful blonde." "No, Charlie, I refuse to sit next to the babbling brunette who is clearly _insane._"

Guilty, I am insane. Jane and I are left standing, a little unsure of what to do, until Darcy stands and mumbles something about going to the restroom.

"Jane, you can sit next to me," Charlie states, curiously glancing at the form of Darcy's disappearing figure. "He just needed to tell me…something…important." His voice trails off and he scratches his nose, embarrassed.

For a few moments, we sit in that awkward silence, where we are all pondering something beneficial and profound to start a conversation. Instead a dark tension sits over us and we are choking on the thickness of the air.

I curl my lips up and slap my hands on the table. "So, wine, anyone?" I ask and Jane's eyes flicker to my face, before Charlie hands me the menu specifically for alcohol.

"Please, find me something strong, Darcy is being incredibly uncooperative, tonight," he says and then realizes what his words could insinuate. "Oh, I didn't mean –"

At least we have mutual feelings. I smile. "I'm not the least bit offended. I'm happy that all of the hatred is not on my part. Speak of the devil, it's my favorite person." Everyone turns to face Darcy as he sulks back to the booth and awkwardly slides into the booth. He's barely sitting on the edge and I can imagine him tumbling off on his butt – he deserves something to humble him, even falling on his arse.

"Will, what's the wine we usually get called?" Charlie asks and Will points to the menu.

"Pinotage?" Charlie questions, squinting at the menu, "Are you sure?"

"Yes," Will grumbles.

"I thought we got something else…" Charlie studies the menu.

"No," Will says harshly.

"Are those the only words you know? You must be up a little further on the human progression ladder – most Neanderthals just grunt. At least you can say 'yes' and 'no.' What an accomplishment. Your parents _must_ be proud."

Will Darcy, at a loss for words – surprise – stares at me, unaware of what to say. Then he looks at Jane. "I feel so sorry for you. It must have been a rough childhood."

He slides out of his suit jacket, trying to avoid touching me. I'd like to shove him off the seat and then jump on top of him and punch his brains out.

Jane just laughs in a panicked sort of way – that sort of laugh where you imagine someone's eye start twitching. This really isn't my fault; she was the one who forced me into this. I just can't help myself. Will is an easy target.

"Our Aunt and Uncle love Pinotage, right, Lizzie?" Jane throws out, looking to me to help the conversation flow – or distract me from destroying her date, which is basically what I'm doing.

"Grace and Paul, darling souls, they are." I peer at the menu and automatically decide on a fettuccini dish. "So, Charlie what is it that you do? Steal souls, make children cry, save the world?"

Charlie laughs and runs his hands through his air, ill at ease at my attempts to put him on the spot. "I, uh, well, I am co-owner of Netherfield Graphics."

"Ooh, really? Do you actually help with the designs or art, or do you just get to be the big boss man?" Getting comfortable in my seat, I lean against the wall. Darcy stiffens when my knee accidentally brushes his thigh. Homeless people germs are contaminating the suit. Oh. No.

Jane smiles, pleased that I'm breaking the ice, without breaking people's hearts and crushing self esteems any longer.

"I don't really get the chance to get my hands dirty with the editing and the creativity aspect, because I'm trying to run the company and keep everything afloat," Charlie explains. "Will would know more about the artsy stuff, honestly."

"Why would he?" I ask, ignoring him and his awkward staring habit. "He doesn't seem like that kind of person. I imagine him as someone sitting in an office, conspiring on how to kill his staff."

"How can you just talk about me as if I'm not sitting right next to you?" Will questions, his eyes scrutinizing me. "I'm right here."

"You are? Jane why didn't you tell me that there was a grumpy, egotistical man next to me? I can't believe I missed him." I click my tongue and Charlie snorts.

"Will and my parents actually used to own Netherfield. Will and I grew up together – he's actually my best friend," Charlie says, smiling at Will. "You don't believe it, right? Gotta' love him, though. Depending on when mood swings are, I have to work around his bipolar schedule."

Will snorts. "And I have to work around your incompetent, unorganized ass who can't remember meetings or where you left your keys."

"Short term memory loss," Charlie defends.

"Does that affect organizational skills?" I question, a smirk playing on my lips.

"Uh, no, but I'd rather keep my position as the big boss man and not let my faculty know I'm as terrible as Will says I am," Charlie defends and I laugh.

"Jane, I like him, you can keep him."

"Oh, I'm glad," Charlie adds. "I'm quite fond of Jane already."

Will stiffens at his remark and I glance at him cautiously to see him watching them closely. The two love-birds smile softly at the other and the waitress comes and takes our orders at that moment, forcing them to join the rest of the world.

"Anyway, Will has a degree in Graphic Arts and Technology and he works that whole creativity aspect well. I, on the other hand, basically boss everyone around, because I don't get how Will understands how photography works or lighting schemes and all of that other shit about art and such– just no, it doesn't click. I guess I just lucked out that his parents gave me half of the company when they passed–"

"Charlie! Don't tell this girl my business," Will snaps, leaning across the table and I suddenly feel like a complete ass for my remark earlier, but it passes. "She's an idiot! A complete retard – has so social decency at all."

There he goes insulting my intelligence. Again, right in front of my freaking face – but, alas I do the same to him. Score for Darcy, but I'm still up in the game. Thank you, thank you.


	7. If Only I Were Mother Theresa

**You guys are awesome. This chapter was kind of a filler. Hope you enjoy. Reviews are appreciated. Happy Thanksgiving. :)**

* * *

><p>Lugging my backpack filled with books only crazed English majors would carry, I mount the stairs in the apartment complex. Two days after my "date" with Will Darcy and I am still seething. Yes, for a second I felt like an idiot for making a comment about his late parents, but still – he immediately started insulting me. And, for the rapid insults that fly out of mouth, they are worth it. Let's just say it's my source of entertainment.<p>

Three weeks into classes and I am already counting down the days until graduation in May. But, then I will be off to grad school – where at, I'm still not sure. Rounding the corner to the last flight of stairs, my cell phone starts ringing and I reach for it in my back pocket. By the ringtone, I know it is Charlotte.

"Shoot me in the face, Char," I grumble. "Just shoot me in the freaking face. I know why you're calling me – Jane's date went fantastic. Mine, not so much. Will Darcy deserves to be mauled by bears, attacked by wild boars, or bitten by a venomous snake."

"_Wow,"_ Charlotte says, _"And I was hoping for a shotgun wedding in December, so much for having high hopes for you."_

"Shut your face," I snap, "I hate him." Leaning against the wall in the stairwell, I chat with my best friend. "All he does is brood and glare and think that he is so high above everyone and when he does talk, it's about how I'm either trash or stupid."

"_So, basically we're still on the lookout for finding you a soul mate,_" Charlotte states and I sigh.

"I guess, but I never really said that I was, ya'know, desperate," I return. "And, what about you?"

"_What about me?" _Charlotte's voice sounds defensive and I bite my lip.

"You don't need a soul-mate? What did you do - run off and find someone amazing and leave me in the dust? Did you get married in the course of the week?"

Charlotte's known for finding the losers. She deserves better, but settles.

"_No to both, but I did re-meet someone,"_ Charlotte says sheepishly.

"Who?" I'm suddenly wary.

There's a long list of men that could waltz back into Charlotte's life and they are all losers or assholes.

"_Um, Bill Collins,"_ Charlotte mumbles and for a moment I can't catch my breath. I literally feel like I'm going to roll down the staircase, because I will faint from lack of oxygen.

"Shit," I say and then take a deep breath. Bill Collins grew up in the same neighborhood as Charlotte and I. He went for Jane first, who politely declined. Then, he attempted to rape me – or kiss me, after he asked if I would take him to prom. Way to go for my best friend after getting rejected by Jane and Elizabeth Bennet.

"Oh, well, are you married?" I push my bangs out of my face and bang my head against the wall.

"_Lizzie, just shut the hell up if you're going to act ridiculous. I was waiting in line at the bookstore and he was behind me. We started talking and I got asked out on a date. No big deal. If you can't be a supportive friend, don't talk. I don't want to hear your freaking sarcastic remarks or that other shit you call words."_ Charlotte's voice is seething and bitter.

I sigh. "Charlotte, I'm just being honest. Bill Collins? I want to be supportive, but can't you find decent guys? You're my best friend, I want you to be happy and not date losers."

My phone beeps and the line goes silent – she hung up on me. I can't believe it. Opening the door to the hallway, I attempt to fish for my keys without removing my purse from my shoulder. I turn the corner and start down the corridor and see a young girl, leaning against an apartment door, fiddling with her fingernails.

I bite my lip in thought. _Should I talk to her, offer help? Or, keep my "shit you call words" to myself? _I'm not a terrible person, so I stop and look down at her.

"Hi, hon, you okay?" I ask and her blue eyes glance up at me. Relief fills her features.

"Thank God," she says, "I locked my keys inside and I have no phone or anything. I've been out here for at least two hours and I couldn't find anyone at the front desk, so I'm just chilling in the hallway." She smiles sadly.

"Oh, that sucks," I return and hand her my phone. "Call away."

"Thank you so much!" She punches in some numbers and lifts the phone to her ear. As it rings, I look around, not wanting to stare or eavesdrop completely on her conversation.

"Hey," she greets. "You know how you said you wanted to make a copy of my key, because I'm forgetful and unorganized?" She sighs and rolls her eyes. "Okay…I know…it wasn't my fault…Fine…I'll wait here, in the hallway, for what six hours, before you get off work…No, don't worry about me…I'll eat out of the dumpster or something, bathe in the gutter."

I snort and she looks at me. "Sorry."

She waves her hand, acknowledging I'm forgiven. "Fine, fine, I'm just running my mouth, because I can't believe I locked myself out. I'll see you in an hour. Please, hurry, though…Love you, too." She ends the call and returns my phone. "Thank you so much."

"Uh, do you need somewhere to hang out for a bit?" I ask and her eyes light up. "I'm Lizzie, by the way. I have a clean criminal record – despite the fistfights I've started and my verbal spars with unsuspecting victims. I don't want you to think I'm going to take you inside and kill you."

"I'm Georgie," she says, giggling. "I couldn't impose, though," she says quickly. "My brother will be here soon."

"An hour isn't soon." I smile at her and move to my door diagonal to where she's sitting. "Come on, come on, I take care of the poor and needy. Shoot, I'm Mother Theresa."

"Well, in that case…" Georgie smiles and stands, dusting off her jeans and following me inside.


	8. I Moved to Awkwardville

Awkwardville was one of those cities that had the giant dust balls rolling through the streets and silence reverberated, even the most miniscule noise was heard. Tension was tangible and people usually didn't make it out alive. Will Darcy and I made up the population; Georgie was the poor victim that had gotten stranded and wasn't sure if she would make it out of the town without someone holding her captive.

* * *

><p>When Georgie saunters into the spotless apartment, minus the stacks and stacks of books on the coffee table, she purses her lips and sort of hangs out by the door.<p>

"You can sit down," I say, motioning to the bar stools near the counter. I lay my backpack and purse on the armchair in the living room, tossing my keys on top of the pile and head towards the kitchen.

"Oh," she murmurs and quietly walks to the stool and climbs up gently.

"So, you are a university student, I'm assuming," I toss out, trying to break the silence. Georgie has dark brown hair and pale skin, her blue eyes vivid and captivating. She seems hesitant, which makes me realize that she must be a freshman. Leaning against the counter, I listen to her reply.

"Yeah," she replies and then a smile spreads across her face, lightening her nervousness. "What made you guess: the fact that I left my keys in my room or how that I was freaking out that you would take me into your apartment and chop me up into a million pieces?"

I laugh. "Well, I did love _The Lovely Bones_, and while I am stubborn and feel the need to beat people up frequently, I don't kill people – usually – there are a few people who try my patience," I inform and she giggles. "No, I'm really not that hard to get along with, unless you're offended by sarcasm and a chatterbox mouth."

"Oh, no, not at all," Georgie answers and I pull two glasses from the cabinet.

"Would you like something to drink?"

"I would love something to drink. I never realized how sitting in the hallway for two hours would take all of my energy and thirst."

Georgie and I get settled at the counter and I can't help but notice something familiar about her, but I just can't place my finger on it. She's taller than me, but I'm 5'3', so just about every full grown person is taller than me; and she is thin and willowy, with her dark, straight hair cascading down her back.

"I really do appreciate you letting me come in." Georgie breaks the small silence that had settled upon us and traces circles on the countertop. "I just moved in at the start of the semester. My brother didn't want me to leave, but I had to cut the apron strings. He's just too overprotected. I love him and he is truly one of the best people I know, but I was being suffocated."

"Understandable. I grew up with four siblings – my twin sister, Jane, actually lives here with me – but my mother is one of those people who has to know everything and run her mouth about everything. Being from a large family, you'd think it would be the other way around, but Mom has always been mother hen, keeping her eye on all of us girls, not letting us get too far away. It doesn't help that she is always running her mouth. I might talk a lot, but trust me, my mother is worse." I take a sip of my juice and cross one of my legs underneath of me. "She has no tact…or manners….or common sense. That's probably why Dad sort of hides in his study."

"Five girls? How did your dad survive?" Georgie asks, bewildered.

"With wit and humor." I roll my eyes. "He's a ridiculous sod, but I love him dearly."

I run my fingers through my curls and faintly remember that before I had found the locked-out Georgie in the hallway, I had been arguing with Charlotte. Mental note: call Charlotte and apologize. Groveling and ass-kissing is required.

"Does your brother know where to find you?" I ask, realizing that he may think she has been kidnapped.

"Oh, probably not," Georgie says, biting her lip. "Should I call him and tell him or let him worry?"

"Well…that's probably your call. I don't encourage family estrangements unless it's with my mother or two younger sisters."

I pull my phone out of my pocket and slide it across the counter. "It's all yours, kid."

* * *

><p>Twenty minutes later a knock sounded at my door and I hopped off the counter, sliding in my socks across the hardwood floor. Reaching for the knob so I wouldn't wipe out, I tore the door open and almost peed my pants when I saw the person on the other side. Will Darcy didn't look exactly thrilled to see me either.<p>

"Can I help you?" I ask bitterly. Will looked at the number on my door and then at a post-it in his hand.

"I don't know," he snaps. "My sister –"

"Hey, Will," Georgie greets, peering around me.

"Georgie – I – what are you…" Will stammers at first and then his voice trails off as he stares at both of us dumbfounded.

"Is there a problem?" Georgie questions, still castling over me from behind; I open the door wider and she moves beside me.

"Of all the people that could've rescued you Georgie and you pick this one?" Will rolls his blue eyes and then I suddenly see the resemblance, despite the fact the Georgie seems normal, compared to this ass.

"Not to boost my self-confidence or anything, but I saw her sitting in the hallway and I asked if she needed help, I could've just walked past her and left her in the hall. I'm not a horrible person, Darcy." This is probably where it would be a great benefit if I was a little bit taller, so I could be a little bit more horrifying. "No offense to you, Georgie, you're a great girl."

Georgie holds up her hands in defense and shakes your head. "None taken."

"Well, you aren't exactly the most pleasant person to spend an evening with," Darcy spits out and looking down at me – in both ways, always snubbing those lower than him and also because I'm short.

"_Two_ evenings," I remind. "_Two_ evenings that I had to waste my life listening to you complain!"

"I had to listen to you run your mouth about every possible thing and do you ever shut up?"

"No, especially not when I'm forced to see your face on the other side of my door. Oh, the irony, couldn't you have not been her brother?"

I hear a giggle escape Georgie's mouth and I have to wonder if Will Darcy was perhaps hatched or raised by wolves. Will's eyes dart to his sister and he scowls even more – if that's possible – before his blue eyes meet mine and he glares icily.

"Sorry, I can't control that my parents gave birth to my sister and unfortunately I can't chose that she wanted to live in this apartment with her friend and _suffer _with you across the hall." He looks to Georgie. "I'm trying to let you make your own decisions. If you want to live here_, fine._"

I sigh in frustration and point at his chest. "For your information, Will Darcy, I've lived in this same room for four years. I'm not moving out on your behalf. She can suffer until May." I turn to the smirking brunette. "I really have nothing against you, Georgie. It's your brooding and arrogant brother."

"I hate how you talk about me as if I don't exist," he snaps and I laugh wryly.

"Georgie, I hate to kick you out, but I think you better escort your brother elsewhere, before I get arrested for kicking his ass."

Georgie nods and scoots out the door. "Come on, Will, we don't need _you _to get arrested for civil misdemeanors or beating a girl to death. It wouldn't look good on your permanent record, we have to think of the future."

"I would never hit a girl," Will defends as Georgie drags him across the hall, taking his keys from his hand and unlocking the door.

"Well, I don't want to take the risk," Georgie says; she turns around and waves. "Bye, Lizzie, thanks for asking me in, I've enjoyed the amusement."

"Anytime, stop by and meet my sister sometime. We can plot on how to kill your brother – if you ever feel the need. "I add the last part, hoping to not offend my new friend.

"Definitely," she says and then Will shouts. "WHAT?"

"I mean, to meeting your sister," Georgie adds and I laugh, shutting the door.

Despite the circumstances, I'm glad I met Georgie.

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><p>Will received the phone call from Georgie right before going to his second meeting that day. To his chagrin, Georgie had locked her keys in her room, which was why he had insisted she let him have a copy of her key in the first place. He knew it was bound to happen; Georgie had a tendency to be flighty at times. Not that she wasn't terrific and intelligent, but once in awhile – or ya'know, on a regular basis – Georgie had a tendency to forget important things. ("Forgetting to not put the gas cap on once is okay, but three times in a month: there's a problem." "Will, I got distracted…There was a – cat – dog…I – well…" "Which was it: a cat or a dog?" "Just a gorgeous guy." "No dating until you're thirty-five.")<p>

So, as he climbed the stairs that afternoon, although he didn't mind going to rescue his baby sister, it was one of those things where your sibling's ignorance is irritating. Then, to top it all off, Elizabeth Bennet answered the door, which nearly gave him heart failure – the second time in nearly a week.

The first time in the past week was when Charlie lied to him about the business meeting. Driving to the restaurant that evening, Darcy almost drove his beautiful silver beemer up a telephone pole.

"Darce, don't get angry at me when I tell you this," Charlie warned as Will navigated his car through the downtown traffic.

"What? Did you do something really stupid, Charlie?" Will glanced at his best friend. Charlie smiled sheepishly and shrugged.

"Depends on your interpretation."

"Do I really need to know now? Can this wait until after the meeting?"

"Well, it's sort of about this whole supposed meeting," Charlie said waving his hands. "There really was no dinner meeting to begin with."

Will slammed on his brakes and spun in his seat to glare at Charlie. "What the hell are you talking about?"

The color had drained out of Charlie's face and cars were honking in all directions from the accident. "Will, _go._"

Tires were spinning as Will accelerated forward. "Tell me what you did."

"We're sort of going on a double date with Jane and Elizabeth Bennet – the girls from the play." Charlie said quickly, just as Will sped through a yellow light.

"You jackass! What were you thinking!"

"I wasn't, I guess," Charlie added and felt relief when Will finally whipped the car into the restaurant parking lot.

That was the first of his high blood pressure problems and heart problems.

Now, to top it all off, Georgie was stranded at Elizabeth Bennet's apartment. Granted, he could tolerate Elizabeth if she didn't talk. That was her biggest downfall – when she opened her mouth. She was pretty in that plain sort of way. And, she had nice eyes. Okay, they were actually pretty amazing. Big and green with thick lashes and every emotion would flitter through them. If he wanted to be honest with himself, he would admit that he was captivated with her eyes, but that would be being honest, which he didn't want to do. Because then he would also have to admit that he thought it was cute how short and petite she was. She would fit under his chin…But, then Will Darcy would remember that when Elizabeth Bennet opened her mouth, his head would hurt.


	9. Let It Roll

**A/N: Sorry for the slight delay - it's time for finals and I've been writing paper after paper. Fun. So, this chapter took a lot of brain power which I was lacking, but here it is. Please review. Merci!**

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><p>Georgiana Darcy took after her brother; they were both quiet-natured and somewhat backwards. But where Will came off as an arrogant jerk, Georgie was able to seem sweet and wonderful, which she truly was. As she sat in the empty booth of at <em>The Melting Pot<em>, waiting for Will and Charlie, she pulled a textbook out of her satchel and started reading.

Georgie had moved to the Pittsburg area a month before starting her semester at Duquesne and still wasn't used to slight hustle and bustle. She had gone to a small private high school and was unaccustomed to cities, even one the size of Pittsburgh, although she had lived near the area all of her life. When her parents had been alive, her father commuted between her hometown and Pittsburgh, while her mother stayed home with her for the most part. When her parents were both required out of town, she had grown accustomed to their housekeeper, Ruth Reynolds – who was more like Alice from _The Brady Bunch_, because she was always offering advice and giving Georgie and her brother a smile of encouragement. Ruth was especially appreciated after her parents had passed away and Georgie had refused to move to Maine with her Aunt Catherine and instead lived in her childhood home.

That was until she had begged Will to let her move into the city and live with a close friend from high school. Will was still living at Pemberly, the estate of their childhood and probably always would live there, and was unsure at first, but eventually realized he had to let Georgie make her own decisions, which Georgie was sure he was regretting due to the infamous, Elizabeth Bennet.

Georgie was still puzzled about Lizzie and Will didn't offer more information than necessary, but Georgie had good connections – Charlie Bingley had to have the dirt on her brother.

"Hey kiddo, want to join the living?" A deep voice asked.

Georgie lifted her head and smiled at her brother, who was grinning boyishly at her as he slid into the booth across from her.

"Oh, if you buy me food, we can talk," Georgie said, closing her book and slipping it back into her bag. "Where's Charlie?"

"Running late, I guess," Will murmured and took a sip of his drink.

"I ordered drinks for you and Charlie," Georgie added. "He likes Coke, right?"

"He'll live," Will mumbled, flipping open his menu as the buoyant redhead jogged over to their booth and plopped down next to Will.

"Glad you could fit us into your busy schedule," Will said dryly. Charlie nudged Will and reached over ruffling Georgie's hair.

"Hey there, where've you been all of my life?"

Georgie playfully batted her eyes and then giggled. "Aren't you married yet?"

"Well, I'm seeing someone," Charlie said beaming.

"Aw, Charlie, why didn't you tell me?" Georgie said clapping her hands excitedly. "Is she pretty? What's her name?"

"Georgie, let's not talk about –" Will started to say, but Charlie cut him off.

"Jane Bennet," Charlie supplied and recognition flittered across Georgie's face.

"Oooh…" Georgie bit her lip to keep the smile from permeating. "Lizzie's sister, right?"

"You know Lizzie?" Charlie asked as Will had resorted to poking his eyes with the closest fork. Not really, but he was close to it.

"Can we not talk about Lizzie?" Will pleaded.

"She lives right across the hall from me. When I got stranded in the hall, she let me use her phone and invited me in her apartment until Will could come rescue me." Georgie tucked her tresses over her shoulder and Will pinched the bridge of his nose.

"Lizzie's great, real keen and witty." Charlie offered as the conversation paused for food orders to be made. When the waitress left, Charlie looked to Georgie. "Jane's great, too. Looks nothing like Lizzie, though."

"I haven't met her, yet."

"Seriously, you two, let's change the subject." Will begged and started massaging his temples.

"What is with you, man? You're so whiny right now." Charlie looked at Will oddly and rolled his eyes. "He's been like this ever since he met Lizzie. I personally think its sexual tension."

"Oh, that could be true!" Georgie gushed. "Lizzie was great, though, despite the fact that Will hates her."

"Why is everyone ignoring me anymore?" Will snapped.

"Will has no reason to hate Lizzie," Charlie said.

"What?" Will snapped. "I have every reason."

"No, you don't, you started it."

"The hell?" Will mumbled and looked wordlessly between his best friend and sister.

Charlie continued without Will's approval and told Georgie the truth about her brother. "He was running his mouth and Lizzie overheard him call her homeless and basically a moron."

"Will, seriously!" Georgie gasped. "Why?"

"I never said that!" Will defended.

"Dude, you did," Charlie stated bluntly.

"I don't ever remember saying anything remotely close to that!" With that Will glared icily at his sister and she smirked.

"Of course you don't! You spout off at the mouth and can't remember insulting her!" Will continued to pout and Charlie chuckled. "I think someone is in love with Lizzie," Charlie said in a sing-song voice, elbowing Will in the ribs.

Will continued glaring until Georgie reached across the table and fondly pinched her brother's cheeks, forcing a smile to slip through his glaring façade.

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><p>With Starbucks in one hand and homemade broccoli cheese soup in the other, I kick Charlotte's apartment door. Desperate to make amend, I immediately got my act together and decided to ignore the fact that she was dating a loser.<p>

So, now I wait for her to answer her door, my arms exhausted from the half a mile walk to her apartment across town. "Charlotte, open the flippin' door!"

I kick it again and the door flies open and my best friend starts to shut the door when she sees that it's me.

"Char, let me in, I'm sorry!" I plead. "And I brought you a white chocolate mocha! It's a large!"

The door flies open and she reaches for the coffee, which I immediately pull back.

"Lizzie, it's my favorite!" Charlotte whined.

"Yeah, mine too," I say. "Can I come in?"

"Fine, fine, fine." Charlotte ushers me in, grabs her cup and pads into her kitchen. "Don't you have something to say to me?"

"I'm adopting a child from Haiti," I deadpan and she rolls her eyes.

"Seriously, Lizzie," Charlotte says, leaning against the counter.

Laying the soup on the counter, I run my hands through my hair and sigh. "I'm sorry. It's your life, Char. I shouldn't be so judgmental about your choices. If you're happy, I'm happy for you."

"I am happy, Lizzie." Charlotte is beaming and I smile softly.

Because she is my best friend, I have to be supportive, even if they loser in question is a jackass.

"Good. But don't expect me to always be nice," I defend and drink a sip of my coffee.

"I don't expect you to ever be nice, Lizzie."

"I can be nice sometimes," I say. "For example, just the other day I let…"

My voice trails off because I recall the incident with Georgie and Darcy.

"What did you do, Lizzie? Give a homeless man half of your sandwich? Donate a penny to the Salvation Army?"

"You make me sound horrendous."

Charlotte smirks. "If the shoe fits…"

"Yeah-no, it doesn't."

"Okay, you're not terrible, just stubborn. So, what did you do, Mother Theresa?"

"Well, Will Darcy's sister lives across the hall from me and accidentally locked her keys inside of her room." I twirl a ring on my finger as I explain the rest of the story nonchalantly.

"So, she's not evil? That's a shocker!"

"I know! She's great!" I lean on the counter and face her. "I think Darcy must have been raised by wolves or something…"

"Or he's in love with you."

I glare at her. "Sure. Makes sense. This isn't first grade. People are supposed to be mature and kindhearted, not stealing crayons and crackers at snack time if they have a small crush on you."

Charlotte snickered. "When did the infamous Will Darcy steal your crayons or crackers?"

I huffed. "Theoretically speaking, but all the same, he is irritating and insufferable and I hate his guts."

"Well, if we're wanting to be mature, you're handling this very much like a twenty one year old," Charlotte said slyly and I sighed.

"Charlotte, Charlotte, when will you ever grow up?"

"Lizzie said ironically."

"Okay, okay, let's move on to the reason why I came over," I say, waving my hands to shush her. "How did Bill waltz back into your life?"

"On his feet, obviously," Charlotte muttered, before taking a gulp of her coffee.

"Char, let's be mature," I state, before she throws a dish towel at me.

"I told you this already, remember? At the bookstore…In June." Charlotte bites her lip and looks away.

"June? You've been talking to him for…" I pause to count on my fingers. "Over three months? And you didn't tell me? Shit, Charlotte."

Charlotte spins around, glaring. "See? This is why I didn't tell you! You always do this to me, Lizzie! I'm twenty three years old, okay?"

Did I mention Charlotte failed kindergarten twice? Yeah, well she did.

"I just barely graduated college and I barely landed a job as a receptionist. Bill works for his godmother's company in Maine. If this works out, he'll support me fine."

I know my eyes are bulging out of my head, just by how Charlotte points her finger at me, lunging forward. "Yes, we've considered marriage! Don't try and say something and convince me to wait around for someone that will treat me right. I will be perfectly happy with Bill."

"Three months! How do you decide these things so quickly? And without telling _me?_ I'm supposed to be your best friend! Plus, you're twenty three not forty three – why can't you wait it out? And, Maine, Charlotte? Seriously?" I'm throwing my hands in the air like a madwoman. Somehow my coffee does not spill violently from the cup.

Charlotte sighs and lowers her shoulders in defeat.

"Lizzie, not everyone is as smart and capable like you. I'm happy; Bill's different now."

I take a step back and swallow my bitter and resentful words. It's no use to convince her otherwise. Looking away, I purse my lips. "Just make sure that I get to pick my maid of honor dress."

Charlotte glances at me, rolls her eyes, and lets the smile take shape. "Deal."


	10. Monsoon Winds Part 1

**This is just Part 1, which I know sucks, but finals have been suffocating me. I've been thinking, "Oh, I should update," but then life would happen. I would sit in front of my laptop and type a little bit and want to continue and yeah-no, nothing productive happened. But, aced all of my finals, so round of applause. Part 2 should be coming very soon. No later than Saturday night. I hope? Reviews please. Thanks for all of the reviews so far. **

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><p>The last weekend in September started out with sunshine and Jane planning a spring wedding. OK, so she wasn't <em>really <em>planning a wedding, but between Charlie and Jane, the love was suffocating. And, I knew that neither of them were "in love," but that whole escapade of flushing cheeks and batting eyes and those sweet comments to each other were so darn cute. Then there was the fact that Charlie was so stinkin' cute with the nervous and fidgety behavior around Jane and it would cause me to have heart palpitations and heat flashes. Not really. I hadn't resorted to Hallmark movies and twenty cats to help pass my life. Yet.

But, I think my extreme amount of happiness resulted from the fact that because I was no longer being used as a decoy on Charlie and Jane dates, which meant I was no longer having to waste my evenings with Will Darcy. Ironically enough, I'd begun to see more and more of him around the apartment complex. Our encounters went something like this:

"Elizabeth," Darcy would say formally as he would pass me, eyes fixed straight ahead.

"Darcy," I answered equally, then I would feel his eyes shooting into my back as I'd make my way to the stairwell.

Of course, our first few encounters consisted of me running in the opposite direction or hiding in the laundry room until he passed. But then I realized it was becoming harder and harder to avoid him. I think he has radar on me, because he is always there.

On the other hand, Georgie is amazing and wonderful. Jane also adores her, but Jane loves the world. I want to pinch Georgie's little cheeks and then have her come over and bake cookies with her. Not in the pedophilic way of enticing children into my apartment to rape them, but because Georgie is so awesome and funny to be around. And, when I did mention pinching her cheeks she threatened to chop off my fingers. Win some, lose some – no pun intended.

Because Jane spreads peace, she was a little shocked that a bloodbath almost ensued in our foyer, but I reassured her that Darcy survived.

"Jane, no blood was shed, no suits were mutilated, and no perfectly coiffed hair was ruined."

"It best stay that way," Jane warned, "We can't afford our rent go up because of bloodstains."

"Yes'm." I vowed.

So, on a beautiful September morning when I am trying to cover my eyes from the sun streaming in my window, I hear my door creak open and someone tiptoeing towards my bed.

"Lizzie, I'm leaving."

I wave at her, but keep my face buried in my pillow.

"Listen carefully," Jane commands softly. "We are going home for dinner." To this, I groan. "And you need to pick me up from Charlie's at noon, so we can get home in time."

I nod into my pillow, still slightly incoherent. "Whereyagoin?"

"Skating with Charlie in the park," she states nonchalantly.

"Have fun and go away."

"Address is on the fridge." She kisses my head and walks out.

When I finally awake later the sunshine is gone and I hear rain pounding outside my window. Thunder rumbles and a flash of lightning illuminates my room. Donning on jeans and a tee shirt, grabbing my purse and keys, I head out of the apartment. I locate my car and go to start it and…nothing.

"Shit. My. Battery. Is. Dead." I stare outside for a moment before reaching for an umbrella and trench down the watery streets of Pittsburgh. It's after eleven when I reach the most expensive apartment complex in the area and press the buzzer. After fighting with my umbrella halfway there, I resulted to chucking it into a trash can and speed walking in the monsoon weather.

"It's Lizzie, I need to pick up Jane," I say, ringing out my hair.

"Who? I don't know Jane."

My mouth drops open. _If I have the wrong address…_

"Jane, blonde hair, blue eyed twenty one year old. Butterflies and rainbows follow her along with signing creatures. She has a princess wave and winning smile. Ya'know, Jane."

"Caroline, let her in, for Pete's sake." A deep voice comes over the buzzer, annoyed. It must be Darcy.

Dripping all of the way to the elevator, I try to make myself presentable. Reaching Charlie's floor, a tall, thin red-head is standing by the door. She has on too much perfume and her face is pinched. Her eyebrows pucker together and she calls into the apartment, "Her eyes aren't that nice, Will dear."

I look at her curiously and then Darcy peeks around the doorframe. "Elizabeth."

"Darcy." Here we go again.

The redhead looks to me. "Did you walk here?"

"Um, chyeah," I grumble. "Where's Jane?"

"Will, I'll be back in a few." She passes him and I hear her murmur, "Do you see her clothes? They are _covered _in mud and street grime. Disgusting."

He nods without looking at her and her heels click down the hall. I snort and he finally looks back to me.

"Follow me," Will says in a monotone voice.

"Oh, joy, I will follow you to ends of the earth, Will Darcy," I say dryly, entering the apartment and sliding one shoe off in the foyer. "Who's the bitch by the way?"

"Caroline," he answers plainly, and although I'm not sure, I _think _I see a smirk on his face. But, ya'know with Darcy, it most likely is not. "She's Charlie's sister."

My eyes widen at him. "Wow." I attempt to slip my other shoe off and nearly topple over. Darcy catches my arm and steadies me. My eyebrows crinkle, but before I can say anything else, he is stepping away from quickly. I dismiss his behavior as him trying to accomplish his weekly charitable act.

"So, I'm guessing you and Caroline are parallels here. You and she are both the ridiculous sibling that causes the other to suffer…" My voice trails off as he continues to stare at me, not saying a word. What happened to Will Darcy hating me?

I shake my head, waving my hand at him dismissively. "Where's Jane? That is why I came here."

His blue eyes dart to my face and he nods, "Of course, follow me."

Darcy's behavior sort of throws of me off balance, as I've spent the past month plotting ways to kill him or at least hire a hit man so I don't have to do the dirty work myself. And, now he's monotone and silent. His brooding features are still present, but I'm positive that those are permanently etched into his face. He will probably be susceptible to premature wrinkling and balding – especially with his perfectly brushed – oh my freaking gosh! How the hell did I miss Darcy's hair not being coiffed _just right_? Well, shit.

"Did you forget to do your hair today?" I ask him as we turn down a hallway and I follow him up the stairs.

"Huh – what?" Darcy touches his hair and glances back at me. His dark hair is sticking up in all directions, victim to fingers being ran through it repeatedly. "I didn't work today…"

I blink and realize that Darcy is actually wearing jeans and a t-shirt. Who would have thought Darcy owned casual clothes?

"Oh, are you are aware that your suit is missing?" I ask stepping onto the landing and lengthening my stride as he walks a little bit faster down the hall. Can't handle me anymore.

"Gosh, what did Charlie do? Rape my sister?"

"No."

"Well, if you insist," I say, entering a room with a dark color scheme. Peering around Darcy's shoulder I see Jane curled up on the bed, bandages covering limbs.

"Jane, I let you out of my sight for a few hours and you go suicidal?" I move around Will and look down at her. She pouts at me before laughing despite her current state.

"I think I forgot that I could never skate. I was the one who watched you and Mary race down Mrs. Jenkins' steep drive way."

I nod. "If I had been coherent this morning I would've reminded you." I notice her ankle. "Please say it's just sprained."

"It's just sprained," Charlie assures, walking out of the bathroom carrying a wet washcloth. I let him tend to Jane, gently patting the bloody cut above her eyebrow.

"You want to tell me what happened…or why no one called me?"

"We did," Darcy says and I turn around, having forgotten he was still in the room. "Repeatedly."

"No way," I snap and reach for my phone in my satchel. I frown as I see twelve missed calls on the screen and that my phone had been on silent. "Damn, you win, Darcy. Go crush children's dreams and fire people to celebrate."

He rolls his eyes, but says nothing.

"I took her to the park and she saw a squirrel…" Charlie pipes in, a small smile creeping across his face.

"Did the squirrel jump out and attack her?" I ask.

"No, but I'm not really sure of the rest. It happened pretty fast, but I'm pretty sure she went into a bush…" Charlie says sheepishly.

"I did go into a bush. I think four of them tried to kill me," Jane mutters.

"I am sorry," Charlie defends, whether he is apologizing to me or her, I'm not sure.

"Hey, it's fine, I'll be as good as new," Jane says softly and they smile at each other secretly. Love makes the world go round, they say.


	11. Monsoon Winds Part 2

**AN: I know, I'm late, but it's done now! :) Review, s'il vous plait.**

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><p>"Did you leave the headlights on again?" Jane asks, slightly annoyed that we have no way to get home, let alone go to the Bennet Circus.<p>

"No!"

Jane glares at me.

"Well…maybe…let's not play blame Lizzie, it was accidental."

"Sure, six times in a year is purely accidental," Jane says dryly and Charlie chuckles.

For ten minutes, Jane and I have been comically arguing over my own stupidity and the fact that I walked, which is something I love to do. Charlie insistently offers to drive us home, but Jane reassures that she is just disappointed in my forgetfulness. So, as we are preparing to help Jane off of Charlie's bed, we hear heels clicking across the hardwood floors and Caroline marches in.

"I'm stranded," she moans and Darcy looks at her, and I think he rolls his eyes, but he turns away sharply, when Caroline buries her face in his chest.

I snort and Charlie asks what happened.

"The road is closed, some idiot driver flipped his car. There are at least five cars piled up at the end of the street." She dramatically waves her hands and I picture her fainting into Darcy's arms.

"Isn't there another way out?" I question and Darcy looks to me.

"It's a one lane road, Charlie's car is in the parking garage and there is one exit."

"Where's your car at, buddy?" I ask and his eyes narrow.

"Does one lane road mean nothing to you?" For a moment, the Darcy I've grown accustomed to flickers faintly, but soon dissipates. "I wouldn't want Jane to walk four blocks in stormy weather or in her condition, anyway."

"Let's all just wait it out," Charlie declares.

"Oh, terrific, this is just one up from spending my evening with the family," I say and roll my eyes. "No offense to you, Charlie."

"Charlie, we should really get them on their way, we don't have much room here."

"I have two guest rooms," Charlie defends, before sitting on the edge of the bed next to Jane. "Let's just cool it, guys. Carrie, if you don't want to be civil, walk home. Darce, continue to sit in silence. Lizzie, please continue to help my sanity with your amusing comments."

"And, Jane, keep being you, the wonderful person that you are," I quip and Charlie laughs.

Despite the fact that I am stranded with Jackass Darcy and Miss Bitch, I realize that there is still good in the world if my sister has the opportunity to find love. Charlotte might settle for Bill Collins, and I…Well, as long as my favorite sister is happy, I am happy. I refuse to settle and neither should Jane. And, if I have my say, she is going to get the best that she deserves. I believe Charlie Bingley is a good match, if I do say so myself.

We move Jane into the den and we all crowd into the room. Caroline and Darcy are on the loveseat. Charlie is sitting at the top of the couch, his shoulder supporting Jane's weight as she awkwardly lies on the couch. While I know Jane likes Charlie, she isn't the kind keen on public displays of affection and leaning against Charlie is definitely crossing the line with all of us watching. But, Charlie gave her some pain killer and I definitely think that she is going to pass out any time soon.

"Eliza, what is it that you do?" Caroline drawls, attempting to make her voice seem prestige.

From my seat in the wingback chair, I tuck a leg underneath of me and face her. "Well, I work the corner between dawn and dusk and the evenings are spent down at a local strip joint. Its great exercise, keeps me fit and it definitely pays the bills."

"Oh, how lovely," she says with a click of her tongue and I scoff.

"I'm majoring in English at Duquesne."

"English? Isn't that a major for jobless hippies? What do you plan on doing with that?"

Darcy is looking at me and I glare at him briefly. "My main goal is to be a professor."

Caroline has a sneer on her face and she adjusts the top of her dress making more cleavage pop out. Darcy leans closer to the armrest and subtly tries to move away from her. I bite my lip to conceal a smirk. "Are you that dedicated?"

"Yes." I state bluntly and look at her fiercely, making it known that I didn't want to pursue the discussion any further. I know what I'm capable of and I think the whole world can tell what Caroline is capable of: botox injections, manicures, and bikini shots.

Darcy was leaning on the armrest with his Iphone out, tapping out a message. "Who are you texting?"

"Georgie," he replies without looking up.

"How is she?" Caroline cooes. "I haven't spoken with her, since…"

Charlie – who has been speaking quietly to Jane on the other side of the room – snorts loudly. "I don't think you've ever really talked to Georgie. You smile at her like she's still two years old with dirt all over her face."

Caroline smiles insincerely, but keeps pursuing the topic. "Well, please tell her I said hello, anyway. She's just so smart. Talented, too. She plays like Yo-Yo Ma on the piano."

"Do you mean Mozart? Or Bach?" Darcy questions. "Yo-Yo Ma plays the cello."

Charlie chuckles while Caroline smoothes her dress over her legs and glares at her brother, before launching into another catalogue about Georgie. "I just can't believe she's a freshman this year." She looks to me. "Georgie's working on a degree in photo-journalism."

"I know," I say and run my fingers through my still slightly damp hair.

"You know? How?"

I smirk. "Georgie and I are best friends, aren't we, Darce?"

He looks up at me, but doesn't say anything.

"Georgie knows _her_?_"_ Caroline's eyes are bulging as she points at me with manicured nail.

Darcy nods, but says nothing. I think we've must have reached a truce, but I was never notified. For some reason, he has been inanely different, today. I'm caught off guard by his silence, yet it's still noticeable that he has a stick up his ass. He just has that whole 'I'm up here, you're down there, I'm so much better than you' attitude and it is disconcerting and annoying.

"You see, Georgie is my neighbor." I explain to her. "She comes over all of the time and we _bond_."

"Oh," Caroline states. "Did you know that she graduated first in her class?"

"Compared to your rank at the bottom of the class?" I question and Jane finally joins the conversation, from her spot on the couch where she is slightly out of it.

"Lizzie," she chastises and I nod slightly, acknowledging her request.

"You know," Charlie throws out, "I've never understood how women have the patience to be accomplished."

"Really, Charlie? All women?" Caroline questions, nearly appalled.

I hide a smile in the palm of my hands as I cup my chin, leaning forward with my elbow on my knees. Darcy's ears perk up. Only Charlie could encourage Darcy to enter the conversation and with such a good topic, too.

"Well, I believe accomplished is a broad term. Not all women have accomplishments. What does it mean to say that you are accomplished? Does that mean you're accomplished with your job? Twelve degrees? A talent for crocheting and knitting? The ability to embroider flowery designs on your clothes or bedazzle your blue jeans? The term should be offered only to women that truly deserve the coined term accomplished." Darcy leans back and looks at me briefly. "She should be fluent in at least two other languages, be well-traveled, and have a knack for children. It would be better off if she had two or more degrees, especially higher degrees."

"You haven't thought this through carefully or anything," I say sarcastically.

"I believe a good deal in this."

Caroline then adds her two sense in once again. " The term certainly needs to be narrowed down. She should be especially knowledgeable in the fashion world and be well-mannered. Of course she should know how to do proper dances and etiquette," Caroline adds. She purses her lips. "And she should just have a certain aura about her."

"Are we talking about Apple's newest invention? A take home mom? Let me tell you, she would be something else. No sense of humor. She would sit around organizing her sock drawer and fretting about if something is black or navy blue."

Darcy's blue eyes zone in on my face. "Are you insulting your own sex?"

I smile. "Not at all. I'm just saying that it's impossible."

"Not with practice and determination," Darcy states and I tuck my hair behind my ear, leaning forward.

"That is so typical," I snap. "Let's put the entire female sex into a paradigm and say, 'Oh, you can only be like this and act like this.' Why would anyone want to be like that?" I snap my fingers. "No one is like that, nor would they want to be like that."

Caroline opens her mouth, but Darcy jumps ahead of her in the conversation. "Maybe you should be more willing to fit the mold of what a woman is supposed to be."

"Oh, and you have no flaws? You're perfect, right?" I snap and Charlie laughs.

"Gosh, you guys are vicious. Who needs television when you have Lizzie and Darcy in the same room?"

Caroline sniffs. "I like my soaps."

Her mouth hangs open when everyone continues to ignore her.

Darcy sighs and he runs his hands through his hair. "Well, I…I tend to hold grudges against people. I can't forgive and forget. No one is perfect, everyone has faults, everyone has a natural defect that causes them to be imperfect. I'm just like any other person."

At that moment, I can't, ya'know, close my mouth, because suddenly I see Darcy as a person, not as a jackass. He seems vulnerable, as if he just offered me a part of his heart by telling me this small piece of information. I look at him cautiously.

"I can't argue with that, Darcy," I mutter, "But I believe that your greatest fault is that you choose to hate the world." I throw my hands and imitate him, puffing out my chest. "Oh, I'm the Great and Mighty Will Darcy, everyone bow down to me."

For the first time in meeting Will Darcy, he smiles; his blue eyes crinkle and a dimple on his right cheek is noticeable. "And yours is to misread everyone's personality."

"Anyone want to watch a movie? Or, see if the wreck has been cleared up?" Caroline throws out, tired of being ignored.


	12. Think Positive

**A/N: Sorry for the delay. I have no excuse, except for laziness.**

* * *

><p>Will Darcy knew he could be in serious danger. From the moment Elizabeth Bennet walked into Charlie's apartment, his eyes were automatically drawn to her. Even with her blue jeans soaked in muddy water, her shirt drenched and hair matted down to her face, he was slowly beginning to realize that in the course of that afternoon, he had paid too much attention to the Bennet girl. Then, to top it off, it was her eyes – large, green eyes that were bright and piercing when she walked in the door two hours ago, that made him realize that he could be in trouble. But, when Will set his mind far off of Elizabeth's good qualities, he remembered the long list of faults she did have and he felt relieved. So maybe she did want to be a professor, a lot of people had hopes, but that didn't mean they ever reached their goals. Perhaps Elizabeth Bennet would end up working the corner – then he definitely wouldn't have to worry about her distracting him.<p>

Sitting on the love seat with Caroline and trying to distract himself from both women who were annoying him – both in different aspects, he attempted to maintain a conversation with Georgie to help him focus on other things than Elizabeth.

"Hey squirt, what are you doing?"

"_Rescuing children and feeding the homeless."_

"Ah."

"_Yeah…Do you need something? I'm sort of busy at the moment."_

"I need a distraction. Caroline is practically trying to jump on my lap or rape me."

"_Oh, man, that's awful. Maybe you should invest in some mace? _

"Great idea. Also, Elizabeth's here…"

"_Lizzie? Did you kill her? Please say she's still alive."_

"She is. Alive and well. Distracting and annoying. A paradox."

"_Really, huh?"_

But, he couldn't help but eavesdrop on her conversation or take the bait when Charlie tempted him on joining the conversation. Arguing with Elizabeth then made everything seem more difficult. She was headstrong and forceful on being right, which she tended to be, but that mean Will had to stoop down to her level and that made things difficult. To look something head on with Elizabeth mean to accept too much.

* * *

><p>"She's resorted to leaving post-it's on every visible surface. I should have never let her watch <em>The Help<em>. Ever since she heard Abilene say, "You is kind, you is smart, you is important" Jane has been wanting to speak positive," I grumble to Georgie as we sat on my living room floor, flipping through an American Government book. Turned out that we were actually in the same class and somehow got placed in the same group for a project.

"So, is that a big problem?"

I bite my lip and sigh. "Go read the post-it on my bathroom mirror."

Georgie hops off the floor and pads down the hallway. Because Jane is a few months away from graduation she decided that we needed to learn to speak words of encouragement and think positively. Not that I am against that, but my special bathroom post-it is sort of out of my reach.

I hear a cackle coming down the hall and she is texting something on her phone. "Gosh, that is the greatest thing ever. I sent a picture of it to Will."

"No!" I gasp. "Don't let him think he ever crosses my mind! Now he'll get the wrong impression." I say sardonically and Georgie snorts.

"Oh, trust me, he'll love it." She plops down on the couch and lays her phone on the coffee table.

"This wasn't your resolution?"

"Of course not! His pain is my pleasure," I say and scratch my nose. "Jane dear decided that my greatest failure was badmouthing Darcy."

Georgie shrugged. "We can't all have halos."

"Though we may try," I finish for her. "You know, saying 'I will not think bad thoughts about Will Darcy' ten times a day does make me feel good about me. It makes me feel accomplished, even if I still do talk bad about the person in question, but c'est la vie."

Georige's phone begins singing loudly and she dives for it. "Will? What did you think?...Oh, okay…You can just ask her…No, she's right here…"

Georgie hands me the phone and urges me to take it. I shake my head and she nods.

"No," I hiss.

"Talk to him, do it for Jane," she whispers.

"Why does my life revolve around my twin sister?" I say with a sigh and reach for the phone. "What do you want Darcy? If you feel the need to threaten me with a lawsuit because of my positive speaking promise, then so be it. It wasn't my choice. The angel of peace forced me."

A choked sound comes across the line. "What are you talking about?"

I look at Georgie bewildered and she gives me a goofy smile. "I never sent him a picture. Gotcha!"

"I'm an idiot," I grumble and he snorts. "Why are you calling then?"

"What time is dinner at your place? Charlie said to call you, that you would know."

"Dinner? Here? I have no idea what you're talking about," I snap. "Jane never mentioned…Shit! Dinner!" Our conversation last night flickers faintly in my mind.

I smack my forehead, jumping up. "Georgie clean up the living room! I forgot to start the pasta!" I toss the phone and run for the kitchen, completely forgetting to tell Darcy what time dinner was. I spin on my heel and sprint down the hallway, skidding to a hault.

"It's at 6!"


	13. Where's the Alcohol?

"_I think that we need to start speaking positive, Lizzie," Jane declares as we are cuddled on the couch together Sunday evening, getting ready to brave another week of senior year. My head is lying on her shoulder and she is playing with my hair. I'm pretty sure in the womb we were doing just this; this is our signature style. My head on her shoulder, Jane playing with my hair. This technique has saved me from many stupid ideas, because this is where Jane lets all of her good ideas flow and they conquer my stupid ones before they take place. _

"_Fine, Jane, every morning I will get up and tell myself, 'You is kind, you is smart, you is important.'" _

"_Well, that could be a start," she says, but then she sighs. "I think you should be nicer to Will, Lizzie."_

_My head shoots up and I glare at her. "Why?"_

"_I think both of you have horrible first impressions of the other. Will is a good guy. When I hurt my ankle a few weeks ago, he kept asking if I needed anything. He carried me to Charlie's bed and instructed me to keep it elevated. That's kind."_

_I roll my eyes. "Sure, Jane, he deserves Man of the Year." _

"_He asks about you when I see him at Charlie's," Jane encourages, "That has to mean something."_

"_Common courtesy," I insist and Jane huffs._

"_I'm only saying that you need to stop being so judgmental. You don't know him and he doesn't know you. Yes, he's been hateful to you, but still, Lizzie." Jane smiles softly. "I know you aren't a completely terrible person. You're my twin sister, I know your good and bad qualities."_

_I glance at her and take her hand. "Jane, you're such a good person. You can't see anything horrible in the world. I hope you stay that way, because I love your naivety, but I also hate it at the same time, because I'm afraid one day someone is going to crush you." _

_Jane wraps her arm around my shoulder and kisses my cheek. "That's why I have you. I help you keep your cool and you fend off bullies. We make a good team."_

"_Janey, you're the best," I say, leaning my head on the back of the couch. She shuffles and pulls out a post it pad and scribbles something on it. _

"_Here you go," she cheers and I read her block lettering on the post it. "I will not think bad thoughts about Will Darcy."_

"_Oh, lovely," I say ironically and put it on my forehead. "I'm hoping it will sink into my brain."_

_Jane sighs and takes it off my head and skips to the bathroom. "It's going on your mirror, that way you can read it every day!"_

"_If that makes you happy, Jane!" I snort and sort through my stack of books on the coffee table. I need to go shopping. My reading supply is becoming limited._

_Jane's footsteps echo down the hall and she leans on the edge of the sofa. "How about dinner tomorrow night with Charlie? He asked if we wanted to come over, but I offered for them to come over here instead. Georgie can come."_

"_No Darcy?" I ask, hopeful._

"_Lizzie, what did we learn today?" _

_My shoulders fall forward defeated. "It was worth a shot."_

"_Whatever." She tucks her blonde tresses behind her ears and scratches her eyebrow. "I have class until 4:30. Could you start the pasta? I think 6 o'clock should be enough time to get everything ready."_

_I shrug. "Whatever makes you happy." I say it syrupy and she laughs, bright and cheery at my remark._

"_I am happy, Lizzie. Extremely." _

* * *

><p>"Lizzie, someone is at the door!" Georgie says from the kitchen.<p>

"Can't you get it?"

I grab a long sleeved tee from my closet and button my jeans.

"It's not my house!"

"But it's probably your demonic brother," I mutter.

Fluffing my hair as I jostle down the hallway, I stop in front of the door, expecting Darcy, because Charlie and Jane were picking up items to make a salad, and I take a deep breath. I open the door and my mouth drops open.

"Lizzie, your catching flies, close that death trap of yours," Tom Bennet, says wryly, leaning against the wall.

"Dear, you shouldn't make guests wait so long for you to get the door." My mother smiles in a pinched way and looks around hastily. "There's some man pacing out in the hall and I was very worried that he was plotting to mug us," she said, leaning in and whispering loudly.

I peek at Dad and he raises an eyebrow. "I tried to convince her he wasn't the mugging type. Coiffed hair, suit, brooding demeanor."

"Darcy?" I ask, appalled. "Where's he at?"

"You know a criminal?" Mom gasps. "Oh, Lizzie, this is a terrible location to continue your learning!"

"The funny thing is, I'm almost a college graduate. I could get a survival badge!" I smack my forehead with my hand. "Who survived living in an apartment filled with muggers wearing suits? Elizabeth Bennet!"

Dad laughs and then peers down the hall. "Lizzie, the mugger is coming back, maybe you should save our souls and take us into the sanctuary?"

"What?" I look into the apartment. "Uh, no, you can't come in…"

Mom looks at me closely and I see Darcy coming closer. "Lizzie, do you have a boy in there?"

"No, Mother, I do not have a boy in my apartment!" I nearly shout and Georgie comes around the corner.

"Is everything – "

"Lizzie, you have a girl over, are you…? Do you need…to tell us something?" Mom looks at the ground awkwardly and starts to fan herself with her hand.

My dad lets out a loud laugh and Darcy is directly behind my parents, waiting awkwardly, more like lurking.

"Study party!" I grab Georgie and push her forward. "This is Georgie! We are studying!"

"Hey Will," Georgie greets.

"Georgie, this is so not the time to make this more difficult," I mutter.

"You know the mugger?" Mom asks and I groan.

"Oh, Lord, this is ridiculous!"

"I find this hilarious in every aspect, despite the fact that we are standing in the hallway like a crime scene," Dad drawl in that distinctly wry tone of his.

"Will's a mugger?" Georgie asks and laughs.

"Mom, Dad, you need to leave. Tonight's our weekly study party. Will's the tutor."

"You're a tutor?" Mom asks, turning to face Darcy, whose eyes widen and he looks flustered.

"He might not be tutoring Lizzie in anything school related," Dad grumbles.

I glare at my dad and then see Will looking at me and I shrug. "Well. Not really. I'm Charlie's best friend."

"Oh, so you're the guy Lizzie hates?" Mom asks and I press my palm to my forehead.

"Oh my gosh! Seriously! Why are you here?"

"I was invited for dinner," Darcy clarifies and I point at him.

"I'll deal with you later," I snap before pointing at Dad who is nearly on the ground in laughter. "Shut it."

He starts strolling down the hallway, unable to control his laughter. "Well, Lizzie, dear, Jane invited us for dinner."

"Dinner? What are you talking about? There's no meal being prepared in my kitchen," I say and smile ironically.

"Why did you tell this fine looking man that he was invited for dinner?"

"He's an obsessive liar," I snap.

"You might have gotten the backwards," Will says and looks directly at me.

I narrow my eyes and sigh. "Get in the apartment. Hopefully Jane is here soon, because I'm feeling suicidal."

Mom enters the apartment and disappears from my sight. Dad saunters back down the hall. "Next time, if you don't want us over, just say so."

"I wasn't even aware you were coming!" I snap. "Jane is getting very sneaky. She's not so good, you know that, right? I think she has a secret side to her."

"We're talking about Jane, right?" Georgie asks and Dad guffaws.

"I was a little befuddled there for a minute, too." Dad leans in and whispers. "It's not Janey's fault, your mother invited herself over and Janey's too sweet to deny her mother anything."

"Of course." I sigh and Dad kisses my forehead. "Any alcohol in the kitchen?"

"I wish." He nods and waltzes on in to the kitchen.

Darcy finally fully enters the apartment and shuts the door. "Are those your parents?"

I look up at him and roll my eyes. "What gave you your first clue?"


	14. Going Into Battle

"Just say no, Jane, that's what I keep telling her, but she never listens," I inform to Georgie and an uncomfortable Darcy. "She'll walk in that door – if she ever comes home. How long does it take to go to the Produce Market?"

"They probably are in some back alley doing something-" Georgie mutters, but doesn't finish, because Darcy throws her a glare.

"Whoa – sorry, bro."

"Anyway, Jane's going to walk through that door and claim that Mom would've been heartbroken if we'd denied her company. I'm all for Jane saving the world and keeping peace, but this is like self-sabotage."

"Lizzie, I'm sure your parents aren't that bad," Georgie encourages from her station at the counter, filling glasses with ice and pouring drinks.

"Please, Georgie, don't try and be nice, you'll think that they are the plague when you really get to know them," I say and massage my temples.

Darcy has spent the past ten minutes leaning against the wall in the entry way of the kitchen, staring at the kitchen tiles. Once in awhile him and Georgie will whisper quietly to each other and I will find him looking in my direction, which if I do say so, it is completely disconcerting. Creepy, too. But, since our encounter at Charlie's he has been silent in my presence. It's like pulling teeth to get him into conversation, which I don't usually encourage him to speak, but even my attempts at harassing him our futile. I'm almost disappointed. Almost.

I continue my rant. "Dad's not terrible, he just has a dry sense of humor. Mom's just…" I look around the kitchen, stirring the pasta and trying to think of a strong adjective. "Verifiably insane," I add with a smile. "Whatever she says to you, just nod."

"How will that help?" Darcy asks from his place and I turn to look at him.

"Did you miss that whole encounter in the hallway? Unless you have a certificate stating that you have training in dealing with the mentally impaired – like my mother – then you best just keep your trap closed. Got it?"I tug on the hem of my shirt and huff petulantly at him.

The front door opens. I hear my mom's shrill voice and introductions being made and finally the two emerge, fully intact. Jane and Charlie waltz into the kitchen, laying the bags on to the island.

"Where've you been, twin?" I put my hands on my hips and look up at her.

She sticks out her lower lip. "I couldn't on the type of cucumbers. I didn't know if I should get the seedless so we could shred it, or the seeded."

"Tough decision," Charlie adds with a smirk, poking her side.

"Sounds it," Georgie counters, going to stand next to Darcy.

Jane finally recognizes our guests and greets them. "Hi Will, how are you?"

He smiles, in a way that is reserved, but seemingly kind. "Good, Jane, and you?" Glad he can be nice to Jane, she deserves it.

"Wonderful," she says with her lovely voice and because she is so seemingly perfect, you believe her. If I would've said that, the word would have came out sarcastic and bitter. That's just my personality. But with Jane, she always has the pageant queen personality.

"Excuse me, you forgot to acknowledge my presence," Georgie butts in, swishing her dark hair over her shoulder and waving. "Over here, Jane, I'm over here."

"I couldn't forget you, Georgie, thanks for helping, Lizzie."

"Lord knows she needed it."

I stick out my tongue and she makes a face at me. Darcy's blue eyes watch me for a moment and I turn away before he can say anything otherwise.

"Are we about done in here?" Georgie asks and picks up a few glasses. "I'll help set the table."

"Oh, you're such a sweetie!" Jane coos. I laugh as she pinches Georgie's cheeks.

"She takes after her brother, I think," Charlie states and I snort loudly, as I spoon the drained pasta into a large serving bowl.

"Lizzie," Jane warns and I mime zipping my lips and tossing the key out the window. Her and Charlie begin carrying utensils and plates into the dining room and Darcy and I are left alone.

I hear him approaching me and I tense up, sensing him behind me. "Would you like me to help?"

Peering at him, I reach for another serving bowl. "Can you handle pouring the sauce into here? Or is that too much of a mundane task for you?"

Darcy gently takes the bowl from my hands and our fingers touch briefly. His eyes look at mine for a moment and he releases a pent up breath. "I can handle it."

"Glad to hear it, don't strain yourself or anything," I grumble.

Charlie enters the kitchen. "Whoa! We're gone for, like, two minutes and you guys are already at it. The tension is unbearable."

Darcy still says nothing and I glance over at him. "Did you something happen that I don't know about?"

He finishes dumping the sauce into the bowl, slips the serving spoon in and lays it on the counter, before turning to look at me. One eyebrow is cocked, his blue eyes clearly curious, nearly innocent. For a moment, I almost get knocked down by how amazingly good-looking he is. Then I remember, I'm Elizabeth Bennet, he's William Darcy – we've hated each other since our principal meeting. Gotta' keep up the tab.

Charlie gathers the remaining glasses off the counter and mock salutes Darcy. "Good luck in battle."

"I really don't know what you're talking about," he states softly.

My mouth gapes open and I take a deep breath. "What happened to hating my guts?"

"I…There's nothing to hate, Elizabeth…"

I see Georgie's face pop into the kitchen. "Are you guys bringing the food, or what?"

Darcy's shoulders relax and he takes the sauce bowl and strides quickly out of the kitchen. Jane peers around the corner and shakes her head satirically. "Remember our pact!"

I follow Georgie out of the kitchen. "One post-it note isn't going to fix this situation."

* * *

><p>"What is it that you do, Will?" Mom asks, leaning across the table and looking at him. Somehow we ended up next to each other.<p>

He peeks at me, before saying, "Charlie and I own Netherfield Graphics."

"Oh, you two work together?"

"Yes," he answers and fiddles with his pasta, looking down at his plate.

"You make a good deal of money, I'm sure," she hints and Dad rolls his eyes visibly.

"Yeah, Mom, they do, and they never planned to provide any benefits to you. I promise you they don't have a charity jar set up for Fran Bennet, nor will they ever."

"Yes, Lizzie, nor will they ever," Dad enforces. "Maybe that's why women are supposed to work, instead of be a beggar to their daughter's boyfriend."

I raise my glass to dear old dad. "Why, thank you, Father for your wisdom. Let's toast to Tom Bennet." I clink my fork against my glass. "Hear, hear."

Charlie chokes on his drink and Georgie smiles into her plate, while Darcy scoops pasta around his plate, refusing to look up.

"So, what does everyone think of Lizzie's cooking?" Georgie tosses out.

"Lizzie cooked?" Mom gasps. "Why, I never knew she could cook!"

Dad snorts. "One bad incident with Easy Bake Oven is a hindrance for life. I told you that you didn't need that, Lizzie."

"Really, Dad?" Jane asks. "Lizzie cooks all of the time. And, she can bake awesome brownies." Dad raises his brows at Jane and she nods. "Dad, she can, I swear." Her innocent eyes pull everyone in and Mom nods.

"I'm sure you are right, Jane, but if you are ever hungry I'm sure your boyfriend would love to take you out for dinner."

Charlie looks surprised. I make eye contact with Jane and she bites her lip, knowing that them coming over was probably not a good idea. OK, the absolute worst freakin' idea ever.

* * *

><p>"Do you like him?" Darcy asks me as I flip through a few pages, peering over the rim of my glasses at him.<p>

Georgie went to do homework and Jane and Charlie promised to clean up, so Darcy is left sitting awkwardly with me in the living room while waiting for Charlie, so he can take him home.

I tilt my copy of _Leaves of Grass _and read the cover, wondering why he is trying to make conversation. "I like bits and pieces of Whitman, he's a little much."

Darcy nods and fingers the stacks of books on my coffee table. "You really want to be a professor?"

I look up, sighing. "Darcy, you can insult my stupidity all you want, but yes, that's what I want to do."

"I wasn't going to insult you…" He scratches his forehead and maneuvers his long legs. "I could really picture you as a professor. You sort of remind me of an English professor I had in college…She was sarcastic like you…Your personalities are similar."

He looks like that lovely speech almost caused him to have a coronary.

"Thanks?"

Darcy looks me head on. "I meant that in…a…good way? Even if it didn't sound it…"

What the hell just happened?


	15. Collisions and Repairs

**AN: OK, in concerns to my out of context use of "rape," I do apologize. Yes, it was not meant in a serious manner and I understand that rape truly is something that should not be joked about and I will no longer have that in a playful context. I am sorry if it did offend anyone and I shouldn't be so flippant about subjects that really are of such a large nature. I, like my character, have a tendency to spout things off without realizing their tendencies. I've never been in that situation, so like most people, when I've never felt that pain, I don't have the ability to complete understand it's intensity. Once again, I apologize and hope that clears up my mistakes. Enjoy the chapter. :)**

* * *

><p>"Char, I'm telling you that there is something up with that man!" I declare as we walk out of Starbucks. I chuck my empty Starbucks cup into the trashcan and adjust my messenger bag. "He complimented me!"<p>

Charlotte snorts and kicks a rock with the toe of her rainboots. "Maybe he really isn't evil, after all. I'm sure when people first meet you they are a little intimidated…" Her voice trails off and she bites her lip. "OK, people are freakin' scared out of their minds when they meet you, Darcy was probably _trying _to stay on your good side, nearly had a panic attack and chose to defend himself by being an ass."

"Mmk, stick up for the jerk," I say, ending our conversation quickly when I see Bill Collins jogging down the sidewalk. When Charlotte mentions Bill, I automatically think of Napoleon Dynamite's brother. There's a freaky resemblance going on. Plus, imagine him running down a street in Pittsburgh, it's not pretty. Bill's short and gangly, wears the most ridiculous clothes ever, and he does have the glasses that went out of style in the eighties. No joke. I think there might even be tape in the middle. All he needs now is an inhaler and to be puffing on it, and the stereotype would be complete. Not being offensive to any asthmatics, just stating the facts.

"Charlotte, dear, how are you?" Bill asks and kisses her cheek. He has to stand on his tiptoes to reach her. That just sickens me to the core. I have this issue that when I hug a guy, my head has to fit nicely under his chin. We have to fit perfectly together, every part. It's just _awkward _when a guy is four feet shorter than a girl. It's bad enough that he looks like a character in Napoleon Dynamite.

He turns to me and I raise a brow. "Long time no see, Billy."

"Bill." He states and turns back to Charlotte. "Would you like to leave now? I know you must be _exhausted."_

"Yeah, she had a rough day. Between watching movies and lying on the couch eating popcorn, it completely drained her. You might want to make sure she goes straight to bed. Don't talk to her at all, don't even make eye contact with her. She's completely drained."

Charlotte elbows me and smirks. "Lizzie, shut your face." She faces Bill. "Honey, I'm fine. Let's go get dinner and head back to the apartment."

I'm still cringing at the tone she used to talk with him. It's a mix between baby talk and sucking in a tank of helium. Ugh. Now that I think about it, Bill kind of reminds me of that loser in _The Benchwarmers _who can't come out of the closet, because he's afraid of the sun. There's a sort of combination between Loser #1 from _Napoleon Dynamite _and Loser #2 from _The Benchwarmers._ How awful, it must be a tough world to be known as an idiot. Poor Bill.

"Go ahead and get the car, I'm going to say bye to Lizzie," Charlotte says and he nods, running in the opposite direction.

"I don't know –"

"Just...no…don't say anything, OK?" Charlotte snaps, annoyed.

"Fine." I look around and notice that the gray sky is darkening. Another storm is moving in.

"He's heading back to Maine, Monday, so if I don't call…" Charlotte waves her hand.

"Yeah, I get it, you'll be _busy._" I must look disgusted, because she shoves my shoulder.

"You promised that you would stop being a jackass about this, now, I need you to be my best friend and stand by me." Charlotte's heart shaped face turns red and a gust of wind snaps, blowing our hair in every direction.

I force a smile. "I'm back, Lizzie's here, the other pissed, annoyed and miserable sod is back on vacation."

She hugs me and rushes to Bill's car. "It best stay that way."

I wave as she ducks inside of the car and he speeds off.

"Ass," I mutter and head back towards my apartment, pulling my coat tighter around me and staring down at the ground. I was directing that comment towards Bill, by the way.

I seriously don't understand what she sees in him, though. He's gross and weird, for one. Plus all of the other thousands of faults that I refuse to sit here and list. But, ya'know – to each their own. And, that is a shitty line for everyone to say, because it's an excuse.

Paying the least bit attention to the world around me in my ranting monologue; my next step is colliding into a human being. Shit.

"Whoa! Better watch out!" A deep voice says teasingly, steadying me. I look up, slightly mortified, and see a man with blonde hair and brown eyes. He sort of has the Ken quality, with his beautiful face and winning smile.

"I don't usually walk down the street like that," I reassure, shaking my head. _Stupid. _

"Me either," he smiles, offering a hand. "Greg Wickham."

I take it hesitantly and smile. "Elizabeth Bennet."

"I was trying to find someone's apartment and was looking at these directions. Wasn't paying attention." He flashes another model smile and I run a hand through my hair.

"Obviously it was mutual. No harm done." Another gust of wind howls and sends the autumn leaves – and garbage – rustling through the streets.

"Could you possibly point me in the right direction?" He hands me a piece of paper and I examine the contents.

Because this guy could easily be a mass murderer, or something, I'm not going to come right out and be like, "Oh, what a coincidence! You're two blocks down from my apartment." I'm not stupid enough to just broadcast my whereabouts to a man who could be wanting to add me to his hit list.

"Um, you're going to head in that direction," I say, pointing in the opposite direction he was initially heading.

"Shit, I was confused," he said laughing and I scoffed.

"Uh, yeah, you would have been lost. Stop and ask for help next time?" I hint around. "Might be helpful."

"That was all part of a ploy to get your number," he says, smiling brightly.

I put a hand over my heart. "I'm flattered, really," I toss out sarcastically. "But, I don't know how many times you said that to an unsuspecting victim on your way to nowhere land."

He shrugs in a way that makes me think that I am probably number 5,345 that he went after. Just today. Not including the other four million girls in his lifetime. Maybe even a few guys here and there, too. You never know.

"So, you going to give me your number?" He questions, peering down at me with his brown eyes, that are somewhat eerie to look at.

I hesitate. On one hand, he's good looking and does have an easy manner; on the other end of the spectrum, I don't know him from Adam. But, that smile…

"Nope, sorry, I don't know you…" I smile at him and pull my bag tightly around me, feeling a rain drop.

He looks dejected for a moment, recovers quickly, then rips a piece of paper from his directions.

"Be right back," he mutters, jogging into the restaurant beside us. I consider taking off and running home, but decide to do the polite thing and _wait_. Thunder rumbles in the distance and I sigh; I'm not going to be happy if I have to walk another six blocks in the pouring rain.

I look into the restaurant, becoming slightly irritated when I'm suddenly being launched forward with a weight clinging to my back. "What the freakin' hell?"

A girly cackle enters my hair from behind and I jostle her off of me. "Georgie, I swear, I'm going to get a restraining order on you."

"You were such an easy target!" She proclaims, fixing her hair and smoothing down her shirt. "Will's coming. I told him I had to do an ambush attack, so I left him behind."

I glance back down the sidewalk and see Will from a distance. Glancing across the street, she squeals. "Ice cream! Oh my gosh, that sounds amazing!" Georgie looks towards Will and then back to me. "Hey, tell Will I'll be right back. He said that we'll drive you home, if you are going in that direction, so don't leave."

Georgie runs across the street and ducks into the building. Before I can do anything else, Greg is exiting the restaurant, reaching for my hand and putting it in my palm. "Give me a call, OK? Whenever, I'll answer. I'll take you out for dinner…or something." His voice trails off and I see him looking behind my back.

"Will Darcy, what brings you to town?" Greg inquires, smiling maliciously.

I turn around and Darcy looks _pissed. _Not just a little bit, but so much that I am actually afraid that someone might actually die right in front of me. And I think it might be Greg.

Darcy refuses to answer and Greg maneuvers around me. "Do you still think that you are so high above the world, Will?"

Will glares down at Greg, towering over him just enough to make Greg look small and like he's going to get his ass kicked.

"I don't know what you're talking about," Will snaps.

"Sure," Greg drawls, "As if the whole world doesn't know that you are an asshole and-"

Will cuts him off, midsentence. "Don't say another damn word."

Greg laughs ironically and cocks his head. "Funny. I don't remember the situation-"

Will pushes past him and Greg's sentence becomes jumbled as Will grabs my wrist and attempts to jerk me across the street. "Let's go."

I struggle out of his grip and give him a stony glare. "Stop," I say harshly and move back on the sidewalk.

Greg, thinking that I was with Will Darcy's girl – Pfft, bull shit – and says, "Whenever you get tired of William Darcy, give me a call."

"Elizabeth, let's go," Will says, urgent and angry.

Greg gives his one of a kind smile and waves, heading in the wrong direction still. Whatever.

"What the hell is wrong with you?" I snap, chasing after him across the street.

"Don't call him, Elizabeth," he says, his voice venomous, a tone so hostile, I've never heard come out of his mouth. Even when we had been badmouthing me, he never treated me this terribly.

"I'm a big girl, if I want to go out with him, I will." I walk in front of him and he grabs my arm, spinning me around.

"I said, don't call him, you don't know anything about him!" Darcy nearly yells, pointing his finger down at me. I close my eyes, training myself to not knock his lights out.

I shove his chest. "You don't have any reason to tell me what not to do, got it? Remember, you don't even _like _me." I click my tongue. "Not that I like you, either, but still. It's my life, Darcy."

His jaw clenches. "You don't have to keep reminding me that you hate my guts!" Darcy starts to run his hands through his hair, but they turn into fists and he starts to walk away while muttering, "I'm trying to protect you."

"Well, you don't have to do anything for me, Will," I say and he turns around, looking surprised. Probably that I called him by his first name, which I didn't mean to do; it just happened. "I don't want your charity or your pity…or, just – no."

Georgie's voice rings out. "Do you guys know that it is raining? You are just standing there. Did I miss something?"

She dodges raindrops and grabs Darcy's keys. "Will, car, home. Now."

Georgie loops her arm through mine and talks animatedly about her dinner date with her brother. I follow absentmindedly back to the car and even when Darcy holds the door open for me and helps me in the car, I still don't pay attention to him. In the elevator and all of the way to my door, I ignore him. I tell Georgie goodnight, disregard her curious glance and shut the door behind me.

* * *

><p>Of all the people Will could have run into and of course, it was Greg Wickham. And, he was talking to Lizzie. His greatest fear was that Lizzie would tell Georgie about his encounter and then he would have to fix Georgie, who would clearly be mortified and hurt, bringing her healing process back to square one. Her mending had been a slow progression and he didn't want anything to cause her to have a relapse.<p>

Will's only option was to confront Lizzie and explain the situation, but that wasn't an option. Was it? She wouldn't listen even if he did try. But, if he asked her to do it for Georgie, she might consider. After all, she loved Georgie. Even if it was coming from his mouth, she would do it. Right?

Will sat in his office chair, staring out the window. Running his hands through his hair, he stared down at the phone. Elizabeth's number was waiting in the screen and he contemplated how this would go.

"Hey, you know the meeting is in ten minutes?" Charlie asked, throwing open his door and waltzing in.

Darcy glared up at him. "I'm busy, why are you barging in anyways?"

"Whoa, you're in a peachy mood," Charlie drawled and sat down in the chair in the corner. "What's your problem?"

"I saw Greg Wickham yesterday. He gave Elizabeth his phone number." Will hung his head in defeat.

"Oh, man, that's…that's shitty…" Charlie came closer to the desk. "Did you tell her?"

"No! And I'm not going to, either." Will pushed up out of his chair and walked around the desk. "If she tells Georgie…" His voice trails off, worried and desperate.

Charlie grips his shoulder. "Just tell her."

"I can't! I don't want anyone to know! Georgie would be mortified." Will sat on the edge of his desk, adjusting his tie and unbuttoned shirt. He looked like shit and he knew it. Charlie did too.

"You have to say something." Charlie started towards the door. "Even if the words are, 'You are absolutely beautiful and I love your damn eyes and your-'"

Will picked up a stack of post-its and chucked them at the door as Charlie ran out, slamming the door behind him, his laugh ringing down the hall.

* * *

><p>Elizabeth Bennet was curled up in a sofa chair in the back of the campus library, curls cascading out of their clasp and thick framed glasses resting on her nose. She cradled her face in the palms of her hands as she focused on a large book in her lap.<p>

"Shit, shit, shit, utter shit," she murmured, scribbling notes on the pages and Will held back a laugh. He coughed; trying to clear his throat from the inevitable laugh and her green eyes flew up from her book and zoned in on him. Elizabeth's eyes narrowed and her brows furrowed before she pursed her lips, slamming the book shut.

"What are you doing here?" Elizabeth said, clearly not worried about the other students' studying, but more upset that Will had resulted to stalking her.

"I need to talk to you." Will pulled up a chair next to the sofa she was occupying and attempted to straighten out his thoughts.

Elizabeth tucked one of her legs underneath her and faced him. Obviously sick of the silence, says, "Lovely library, don't you think? I never realized how many desperate career men hung out here."

Will, completely flustered about how to bring up this topic, ignores her prodding for an argument and says, "Me either."

He looks around, slightly embarrassed, and desperately wanting someone to shoot him in the face. Elizabeth's eyes are watching him, curious and a little concerned. Will's shoulders drooped and he stared down at his hands, defeated, remaining silent.

* * *

><p>"So…it's your turn to talk. C'mon, let it out, I know you can talk, we've bickered and almost killed each other before. Where's the hate? I don't even care if you say something about the lovely structure of the library or the nice carpeting, but please, lose the silence." I take a deep breath and push my reading glasses up on top of my head.<p>

"The carpet is nice." Will murmurs, staring at the wall beside me.

"Ookay." I bite my lip and shake my head. "I prefer hardwood floors. We can sit in awkward silence now and plot how to kill the other."

Will perks up and looks up at me. "So, you scripted our dialogue now?"

"No, I'm just waiting to hear why you've stooped low enough to stalking."

He takes a deep breath and lets words out in a jumbled mess. "Don't tell Georgie anything about Greg Wickham. I don't care if you get involved with him, but leave Georgie in the dark about what happened."

I blink and lean forward. "What are you talking about?"

Will stands up, ready to leave. "If you care about Georgie, don't say a word to her about what happened with Greg."

"I don't understand-"

"Just…don't say anything. Please."

He strides quickly out of the library, leaving me behind. I twist my lips, blink, and shake my head, utterly confused.

"What?" I question too loudly.

"Shhh! Shut up!"

"You shhhhh!" I stuff books into my bag and run out of the library.


	16. To Live and Learn, Meddle and Yearn

"Jane, you don't understand! He didn't even give a reason! He was just huffy and puffy and all seriousness. Then he's like, 'Don't tell Georgie.'" I pout slightly and look at Jane a moment, whose peeling a potato. "And then he threatened to kill me." The last line is just to get her attention.

"Lizzie, he did not!" Jane declares, tossing the peelings into the trashcan and laying the potato on the cutting board.

"OK, I made that teeny part up. But just to see if you were paying attention." I sniff the air and I smell something burning faintly. "Do you smell that?"

Jane takes in a whiff and she makes a face. "I don't know what it is. We live in the city, who knows what it could be."

I shrug. "Anyway…I don't understand the man. I think he's insane. Should I mention it to Georgie?"

Jane points the knife at me without thinking and says, "You better not tell Georgie. Will obviously has his reasons behind this and it's not your business."

"Whoa, Jane, knife alert," I warn and she realizes she's pointing at me with a knife and puts it aside.

"Sorry," she apologizes, moving to the sink and washing the potatoes. "But, I think Will's protecting Georgie and he doesn't want problems. Do what you were asked, OK?"

"Jane, you don't-" I begin and she flicks water at me.

"It's no different than our relationship. We would do the same for each other." Jane gets two glasses from the counter and fills them with some juice. "Correct?"

"You're no fun, Jane." I sigh and bite my lip, thinking. "You know, this whole 'I graduate college in two weeks' phase is a bummer. You used to be so much fun."

"I'm going to be sculpting America's youth; I have to be a mature, responsible adult who-"

"There's smoke pouring out of the oven." I point and she spins around. I _knew _I smelled something horrible.

"Shit!" Jane curses loudly and a large spew of other words follow close behind.

Jane and I investigate the cause, which was coincidentally the mature, responsible adult's fault who left the oven mitt in the oven. How you do that, I will never know. It's these love struck people, I tell you. When we finally sit down for dinner, Jane's cell phone rings and she answers it, because it's Charlie. Of course, it's Charlie, he only calls six hundred times a day. And that's on a slow day at the office.

I point to the food that we almost lost in a fire and she waves at me to shush. "Hi Charlie, no, I'm not busy."

"Charlie, we're eating!" I yell and I hear his musical laugh.

"No, it's fine, really." Jane emphasizes, sticking her tongue at me briefly.

Charlie is saying something and Jane dashes to the calendar in the kitchen. "Friday night? Oh, yeah, we're free."

"Don't mind verifying with me! I might be getting married, buying a house, going to Escondido. Whatever, it's okay, I understand where I rank at around this place. Below Charlie Bingley. It's cool." I shove a mouthful of potatoes into my mouth and start choking on them when Jane sprints into the room and says, "We're double dating Friday night."

I manage to swallow and then I resort to gaping, before I purse my lips and say, "No freakin' way. Darcy's got something coming for him and it is most definitely not a date night."

She shrugs and takes a small bite of her chicken. "Charlie invited us ice-skating this weekend. Georgie's coming…And Will, but you know what?"

I frown. "What?"

"I think you'll survive. There's something about running your mouth constantly that makes you come out on top of a Will Darcy battle."

I smile at her and she rolls her eyes when I say, "And there's something about being Jane Bennet and being perfect and gorgeous that makes Charlie Bingley head over heels in love with you."

* * *

><p>Will Darcy should receive a medal for meddling. He really had a talent for getting in people's business and destroying lives. It was a knack really. By no means did it come naturally, but it started in the heart – yes, Will did have a heart – it was just buried beneath all of the stony glares and lovely brooding. This knack for meddling really started when he met Elizabeth Bennet – might have started sooner, seeing as he had to raise his little sister – but he was willing to blame Elizabeth. And, he knew what he had to do and that was to toss Jane Bennet out of Charlie's life.<p>

Being quite determined to separate Charlie from Jane, he had called in reinforcements. Of course, Caroline Bingley was his first choice, due to the fact she was the closest. Louisa Hurt, Charlie's other sister, hadn't even made the list, but Caroline had called her in for back up anyway. Will was actually quite proud of his accomplishments. Charlie had informed him that he was taking Jane ice-skating. Will, although despising the sport, decided to nonchalantly suggest a double date. But, how nonchalant is a suggestion like this when it is quite obvious your best friend knows something you won't even admit to yourself? Will was willing to suffer just to get him and Jane a part. It was his duty as Charlie's best friend. He had to protect Charlie.

Will had watched them closely on several occasions. Jane was all smiles, but no personality. Her twin must have stolen every ounce of personality and Jane, the good-looks. Except Will felt quite strongly about Elizabeth's eyes, so he couldn't completely agree with that statement. But, Will believed quite fervently that Charlie was head over heels – like usual – and Jane was just interested in the money. And so with this belief, Will called Caroline to action and they were plotting how to work this situation out properly. The sooner the better, too.

* * *

><p>Friday evening rolls around, but not without pouting and groaning and the attempt of sickness. Jane knows me all so well. Shame. Charlotte is accompanying me Friday afternoon while I bitch and complain about how my lovely Friday night of watching shitty movies and shoving popcorn down my throat has been ruined.<p>

"I'm considering sticking around to meet this infamous arse of a man," Charlotte says, sprawling out on my bed. Propping herself up on one elbow, she mumbles between mouthfuls of M&M's, "Bill said Catherine is related to some Darcys. They were from England, though."

I shrug, throwing my hands in the air. "Darcy and I don't exactly share personal information. Lately he just sits in brooding silence. I'm somewhat devastated that I lost a verbal sparring opponent. We used to get along so well, too."

Charlotte raises her eyebrows and I roll my eyes. "I really don't know much about him."

"He's gorgeous, isn't he?" She sighs. "Filthy rich and an arse."

"Been trying to elaborate on that last part in case you've missed my subtlety," I add, smiling sardonically.

"It's hard not to miss." Her gray eyes narrow. "You can't see it from a mile away or anything." Swinging her legs around, she glances at me sideways. "What does he look like?"

I blink. "Char, I can't see past his moody exterior and scathing death glares. How the hell would I know if he's good-looking?"

On the contrary, I have noticed that he is probably the most beautiful man I've ever seen. Can you even call men beautiful? If he wasn't such an arse, I might have noticed he does have gorgeous blue eyes and a strong jaw. Nice height, broad shoulders. But...

Charlotte's shaking her head. "It's a good thing he's a bastard." She snickers. "You should've seen your face! You were drooling."

"Bullshit! Darcy doesn't cross my mind on a normal day. Today's just one of those shitty days that I have to allow Darcy to occupy momentarily."

She crooks a brow, but says nothing.

The rest of the evening is spent talking about Greg Wickham – who I could dream about. He's not as amazing looking as Darcy, but his manners are slightly more impressive. Hell, I'm sure rocks are better friends than Will Darcy. Surely they are much better conversationalists also. I haven't called Greg, probably won't either. It's one of those things that are sort of left alone and if they happen to surface later, I'll give them a try. At the moment, I'm not feeling it.

Near 6 o'clock, Charlotte and I are waiting in the living room. Jane has been getting ready for tonight since she came home from student teaching and she's basically prancing. Gotta' love the girl, she's so darn cute in love.

Precisely at 6PM, a knock raps at the door followed by a muffled, "Lizzie, I've brought you the man of your-Ooof!"

Charlotte and I exchange glances and I shake my head, opening up the door. On the other side, Charlie's holding in a laugh and Darcy looks highly pained. Slightly confused, I stand in confusion until Char pushes me out of the way.

"Charlotte Lucas, I've heard so much about both of you." She shakes their hands, but pauses when she addresses Will. "Lizzie, he's much more handsome in person. Your kids will be gorgeous."

I roll my eyes and sigh. "Darcy, don't flatter yourself. Charlotte's full of shit and obviously mistook my distaste for you and made it into something much more."

Darcy nods and politely, if not somewhat constipated in his manners, greets Charlotte.

Charlie opens his mouth and I turn to him. "Don't add your comments in, Bingley."

He chuckles loudly and I usher them inside, not wanting Jane to come around the corner and see them waiting in the hall. Jane calls down the hall, "I'll be there in a minute, I'm trying to find a scarf!"

"Hallway closet, top shelf in the basket," I answer. I remember that I forgot my coat in my room and excuse myself to grab it, while also grabbing my wallet and phone. Charlotte meets me in the hall, stopping me.

"This might be crossing the line, because she is your sister, but I've known her since childhood, so I get to run my mouth," Charlotte starts, talking fast and urging me to not butt in. "I love Jane, she's great, everyone adores her. We get this. Charlie is also one of those who are lured in by her unfading charm. Great, I'm glad. But, what is she doing to keep him attracted, Lizzie? Does he know how she feels about him? Blushing and avoiding eye contact is cute when your ten, but Lizzie she's graduating from college, entering the job force, something has to give here, because otherwise Mr. Charlie Bingley is going to be out of the picture."

Trying to process it all quickly, the only thing I make out is, "Charlotte, she's shy!"

"I understand, but he's great. I can tell that from just meeting him. She shouldn't let him slip through her fingers."

"But, Charlotte, it's hard, because she doesn't want to get her heart broken." I emphasize and clench my fists. Jane's my sister, I have to defend her. I can't let Jane get hurt. "You should understand that."

She narrows her eyes and starts to speak, but immediately jams her lips together. When she controls her thoughts, she softly whispers, "Just remember what I said. Jane deserves a great guy and she needs to snatch this one up."

* * *

><p>I find many things humorous, I enjoy laughing, but I'm going to say that Will Darcy in ice-skates is probably the most hilarious thing I have ever seen. The man is going to have bruises all over tomorrow morning and I'm still going to be rolling around with laughter.<p>

"Will, the wall is not for support," Georgie urges, "Grab my arm."

"No," he grimaces, his knuckles turning white as they hold the siding tightly. "I hate ice-skating, why did I decide to do this again? I hate falling on my ass and embarrassing myself and people pointing and laughing-"

"Would you like some cheese with your wine?" I interrupt, rolling my eyes. He's in such a pissy mood.

He gives me a sidelong glance from his position on the wall. "Wow, Grandma," he drawls, "Don't hurt yourself with that modern lingo."

"As if 'lingo' is a much better word," I point out and Georgie shrugs, reaching for her brother and then suddenly stops, squinting at something in the distance.

"Did you spot the man of your dreams?" I ask dreamily, popping one leg up in the air and batting my eyes.

Darcy is turning in the direction of which Georgie's looking and she says, "Caroline Bingley and the rest of Charlie's lovely clan."

"No!" I gasp and laugh. "Gosh, she's tracking Darcy's ass."

A hand passes over his eyes and then he slowly turns around on the ice. We all look in that direction and see Caroline, followed by a chunkier redhead and a large man with a round face.

I mock whisper, "Who are they?"

"Charlie's other sister and her husband," she replies and we all exchange glances. Darcy's looking a little green, something's not right about him, but then again his lover is coming for him. I'd be scared too.

"Will, darling," Caroline shouts, "Wait for me."

Darcy takes a deep breath and mumbles, "Georgie, let's go out on the ice."

To this, I laugh. "Oh man, this is rich. This is definitely like a sad Petrarchan lover scenario. I'm sure she goes home and writers poems about you and pines away day after day."

He looks at me briefly, but says nothing. Georgie takes his hand and pulls him and I follow behind. "I hate this, I just hate ice-skating, and all of these people. Why did I do this to myself?"

"Like we didn't realize this the entire way here when you were bouncing your knee nonstop and sighing repeatedly," Georgie offers, dragging Will in tow.

"Slow down," he whines and I snort.

Georgie smiles at me and rolls her eyes. "He's still a child." She pats his hand and he shakes his head, growing irritated. So, of course, I add to his anger.

"You're acting completely irrational, you know that, right?" Very Bill Collins, I think to myself. "I don't understand why the hell you came if you're just going to be a third wheel and keep complaining."

"I'm so happy that you've never had to do something you didn't want to do," he bites out.

"Just say no."

"Because it's so easy to do." Darcy stiffens when Caroline approaches looking clumsy and out of place.

She has on leggings despite the cold temperatures and her red hair looks plastered on top her head with hairspray. "Will, darling, perhaps we could talk elsewhere."

He acquiesces and he treads over to the side. Georgie and I watch, highly amused and then burst into a fit of laughter.

"Hurry, we have to enjoy this," I urge, grabbing her hand and we take off around the rink. "Did he have a bad experience as a child?" I don't know why I ask this, but I'm slightly curious.

"Bad for a boy, I suppose," Georgie counters and explains, "Mom used to take us skating Christmas. He always sucked at it, but I think it's probably a mixture of nostalgia and embarrassment. It's been a few years since they passed."

I bite my lip and apologize. "I should watch my mouth sometimes. I don't mean half of the things I run off at the mouth with."

"Lizzie, trust me, I know," Georgie answers. "Will's a great man – the best man I know. He's just…is careful about finding friends. He's the most trustworthy person, the kindest."

"But he can't make friends with his attitude," I point out. "I'm not agreeing with your statements, nor am I saying that they're incorrect, I just think that if he came off as a nicer person-"

Georgie cuts me off. "He's my brother, OK? So, that means I have to stick up for him and all I'm going to say is that Will's had some rough patches and he's let those circumstances affect his attitude."

I nod, feeling a little abashed. Earlier I was the one saying the same thing to Charlotte and here, the situation is reversed.

"I understand," I admit, slowing down enough to look her head on. "You really know how to knock me down to size."

"Just making sure you know where you stand," Georgie adds, speeding up with a smile. "Race ya!"

* * *

><p>Caroline didn't last very long at the rink, and I saw her slink off about an hour into the venture and Darcy was back hogging the spotlight with his killer skating talent and beautiful smile. <em>Kidding.<em> We'd rarely seen Jane and Charlie all night, but when they were on the ice, I swear angels were singing and their halos were growing brighter. They looked like the world's happiest couple with their beautiful smiles and graceful techniques. Darcy must've noticed, because when Georgie went to the restroom, we were left alone and he was glaring in their direction. Jealous whore.

"So…Nice night," Darcy interrupts my thoughts, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly.

"Uh, sure." I look at him oddly and his eyes shift from me to the ice a few times.

"Do you want to back out on the ice?" He asks hesitantly and I stare at him, confused.

"You hate the ice, remember?" I play with a thread on the end of my gloves.

"I know, but…"

Because I'm bored and out of utter stupidity, I grab his hand and we trudge back on the ice. He looks like he's going to pass out or vomit, so I let go of his hand and he freezes. "What do I have to do, Darcy, drag you around the rink?"

"N-no, I'm fine." He begins to move his feet, moving to catch up to me and I see Charlie and Jane. Jane slinks behind Darcy and Charlie sneakily glides up behind Darcy, place a finger over his lips and smile conspiringly. I bite my lips and watch as Charlie speeds around Darcy and shove him. Sheer horror passes over Darcy's face and he reaches out to stop himself, hands flying forward, trying to grab me to stop himself from tumbling forward. From the force of his weight, my feet go in different directions and I land squarely on my butt – which I'm sure is going to be bruised tomorrow.

Charlie bursts into a fit of deep laughter and Jane gasps.

"Nice move, Darcy," I grimace, sitting momentarily, hating the feeling of having the breath knocked out of you. Jane is trying to hold back a laugh and she moves closer to Charlie, both of them peering down at the couple of us.

Darcy's on all fours, looking up at me. "Are you OK?"

I sit closer, wondering if I'd heard him correctly. "What'd you say?"

He tries to stand and then shoots his eyes up to Charlie. "You ass, help me up!"

Charlie chuckles and offers a hand. Darcy brushes himself off and is then reaching forward and grabbing my elbows, pulling me up gently.

Surprised, I look between the three of them quickly and Jane gives me a knowing look. "I'm surprised you could help me up without falling back on your butt, Darce."

His blue eyes narrow and he turns away, moving off the ice slowly. My eyes meet with Jane and that whole twin telepathy things kicks in. _Lizzie, be nice to him, forgiveness works wonders. _

Nah, forgiveness doesn't help. First impressions are always correct. Right?


	17. Catalysts

**Um, yeah, this chapter was really hard to write and the next couple will probably be the same way until we get to the climax of the book. All of this between Rosings is kind of hard to sculpt just right. Reviews would be lovely. Thanks for all you reading and reviewing so far - you're amazing! :)**

* * *

><p>Jane graduated college the second weekend in December – with flying colors of course – and was going to begin the masters program in Education at Duquesne at the end of May. I had already told her that she needed to go on a sabbatical during her break, but she constantly denied my nudging. I knew that she didn't want to leave Charlie, though and was planning on keeping her job at the library, working full time until she went back to school.<p>

As for me, I was one semester away from graduating. I had numerous applications going out to grad schools and was constantly chasing down my favorite professors and nagging them to write me amazing letters. Of course I had no set idea where I wanted to go; I just knew that I wanted to leave Pennsylvania for my masters. Go out on my own for a couple of years and then maybe come back and get my PhD at Duquesne. My options were open. I didn't necessarily want to leave Jane, but I knew that we were coming to that time in our lives where distance would separate us. It was inevitable.

The next two weeks of December were going to be spent getting ready for Christmas and then Charlie had invited us to his apartment for a New Year's Eve party. Jane had already threatened to drag me there, because of course, Charlie wanted to earn brownie points and invited the whole Bennet clan. Smart move, Charlie, I hope no alcohol will be served and that all sharp utensils are hidden from my sight. Because Charlie is striving to impress Jane so much, he even invited Charlotte – who invited Bill. I really can't hide my excitement; it's completely overwhelming. I _don't_ know how I will contain my joy.

* * *

><p>"I was determined to run into you again and here you are," a voice says above me in a peaceful Starbucks, Tuesday night, following Jane's graduation.<p>

I peer up from the wonderful world of Charles Dickens and smile at Greg Wickham. I place a hand over my heart. "Glad to know that you were persistent in stalking me."

"It couldn't be helped, you're just too cute." He smiles and I notice that is two front teeth are slightly crooked – it really takes away from his Ken quality.

Fanning myself, I say in a horrible Southern accent, "My, my, my, aren't you a gentleman, flattering little ol' me."

He laughs. "You're accent sucks."

"Why thank you!" I gush.

"You are cute, though. Freckle-faced, big green eyes, the works."

He takes a sip of his coffee and motions to the chair in front of me, which my feet are occupying. I nod and re-adjust myself, tucking one leg underneath of me. "Now, please don't inflate my ego too much – everything really goes to my head."

Although, I'm not completely flattered – you can call kittens cute, toddlers, little kids in puppy love – but seriously? He called me cute? Oi.

"Hm, I'm sure it does."

I raise my eyebrows and he chuckles. "Kidding." He is silent for a moment and then starts his interrogation, which I am glad he begins, because I didn't want to approach the Darcy subject myself.

"What's going on between you and Will Darcy?"

"Oh, we're getting married next month. Nice big wedding, full of lots of love and the prospect of thirty grandchildren." Please. I spin my coffee cup on the table, waiting for his response.

Greg cocks a brow, silent for a moment. "For some reason, I don't believe you."

"Good, because I'm lying," I acquiesce, shrugging. "My sister and I met Darcy and his friend at a play – my sister and his friend hit off; Darcy and I… not so much. Then, I found out that I was living across the hall from his sister. And, somehow we all met on a Pittsburgh street and you two almost killed each other. Good story, right? You wanna' tell me what I should know about Will Darcy?"

George looks down at the table and I can imagine his brain searching for every single William Darcy file. There's probably thousands from the way he refuses to look at me.

I tuck my hair behind my ear and Greg leans forward. "It might not be my place to tell you all of the Darcy stories."

"Please," I beg, "I want to know what's up with Will, not Georgie – she's great."

"Or so you think," he mumbles. For some reason, though, I don't believe that Georgie is horrible. I know Georgie very well.

"Will and I grew up together. My father worked for his dad's company and our families became close friends. My father passed away when I was in my early teens and the Darcy's took my mother and I in. Darcy and I had always been close friends, but after I moved in we became much closer. Darcy's father, Fitzwilliam had always taken a better interest in me than Darcy, though. I don't think he knew it at first, but the more he realized it, the more it bothered him. My mother died two years after my father and I grew even closer to Darcy's father.

"When Darcy left for college, I was a senior in high school and worked after school at Netherfield. I was an intern and after I graduated college, I was supposed to get a prestigious role in the company as well as a large inheritance. In my freshmen year of college, Fitzwilliam and Rowena were killed in a car crash. Darcy took over the company and did away with his father's intentions of promoting me in the company."

I listen, feeling the anger build inside me. Will Darcy has a way of getting what he wants and taking everything away from people. Even someone as close to him as Greg and he takes the opportunity right out of his hands.

"That's…so horrible. Why is he like this?" I ask, completely confused, yet knowing that I pinpointed Darcy as right on the spot. Point for Lizzie – first impressions _are _correct.

"Jealousy, among many other things," Greg informs casually. "The worst part of the story is Georgie. She is just like her brother in every way. She's two years younger than me and we were in a relationship at the time of her parents' death. I thought that she loved me…" His voice trails off. "Darcy got rid of me, my job, and our relationship after his parents died forcing me to work job to job, trying to have a steady income."

Putting the pieces together, the only that sticks out is that Georgie's two years younger than Greg. Something doesn't seem right. "I thought Georgie was eighteen."

"She's twenty," Greg corrects and something flickers through his eyes quickly. Biting his lip, he looks around the room quickly. "She took a few years off to travel before she started college."

I nod and focus on the table. I never knew that… For some reason, the story doesn't line up, but I just assume that Greg is keeping the details to a minimum because this is probably still hard for him to digest.

"I'm sorry about all of this happening to you, Greg."

He smiles brightly. "All for the best, I suppose." His eyes flash. "I might not have had the opportunity to meet you the way I did if things would have worked out."

Our eyes meet and on a whim, I do something stupid. "Would you like to be might date for a New Year's Eve party? Charlie Bingley invited a bunch of people over; I need a date. What do you say?"

"Charlie – his parents were the co-owners of Netherfield." Greg takes a deep breath. "So, I'm assuming Darcy will be there."

"In all of his wonderful splendor and glory," I complain with a smirk. "What's better than that?"

"I believe it is arrogance."

I shrug. "True."

"I'd love to take you. Can I meet you there? What's the address?"

We go through the details and as we are leaving Starbucks, I ask, "Will seeing Darcy bother you?"

"If he doesn't wish to see me, he can leave."

* * *

><p>"Merry Christmas!"<p>

"Ma! Stop! You're suffocating me!" Fran Bennet's short stature is fooling, because she has the strength of Hercules. "Mom, I'm going to drop everyone's gifts!"

Lydia and Kitty run through the front door. "Presents for us!" They grab the two large garbage bags in my hands stuffed with terribly wrapped presents and run back into the house. So happy to see us home from college. Nice.

"Those aren't all for you!" Jane shouts from the car and I hear the trunk slam. "We brought Egg Nog and rum, but I didn't understand why we needed rum. Wine, yes; champagne, maybe; but rum – really?"

Mother's hand flutters to her face. "Oh! Your father has decided he wanted to make rum balls!" She goes as far as the first step on the porch and stops. "Jane! Hurry, dear! I can't go out in the snow with my slippers on!"

"Rum balls?" I mouth to Jane, my nose crinkling, and she smiles softly.

"Hold on, let me grab my purse," Jane mumbles, bending into the front seat, balancing the bag in her other hand.

I lean against the pillar on the porch and watch Jane dodge ice patches while Mom is bouncing obnoxiously, trying not to fly off the porch and tackle her.

When Jane reaches the first step, Mom nearly pummels her and my eyes widen as I imagine Jane tumbling backwards and busting her head open. "Fran, leave the poor girl alone!"

Mom turns around and sighs. "I don't understand why you have to ruin my fun. They never call, never come home. It breaks my heart."

Jane and I meet eyes and I shrug.

"They don't come home for a multitude of reasons," Dad mumbles, but Mom and Jane are finally embracing and Mom is yapping about Charlie and the party next weekend.

"So, Lizzie, married to that wonderful Will Darcy man yet?" Dad asks when I step through the door and hug the man senseless. He always smells like cinnamon – I blame Mom's obsession with candles, but it's a memorable scent. I can be walking down the street and catch a whiff of cinnamon and I automatically feel this overwhelming urge to call my dad. I'll reminisce on dozens of memories just by that smell.

I pull back and pat his left cheek. "Dad, how did you know? Was it how he talked to me nonstop or the smile that wouldn't leave his face when he caught a glimpse of me?"

Mom and Jane follow us behind the door and Jane sighs. "Dad, why did you have to bring up Will? She's not going to shut up for days."

"Lizzie, are you and Will in love?" Mom shouts, pulling me backwards and spinning me around.

"No, Will Darcy is a jerkface!"

"A jerkface?" Dad chuckles, "I haven't heard you use that term since high school."

"I'm resorting back to my childhood. When someone suffers through a tragedy – one similar to meeting Will Darcy – they need to rid themselves of the evil."

Dad raises his brown eyebrows, speckled with gray, but says nothing.

* * *

><p>We gather into the kitchen and I'm surprised none of the girls have come to greet us yet. The kitchen is arranged with numerous foods and desserts. The counters are covered and decorations fill the room. It's a nostalgic moment as I take in the handmade ornaments and yellowing chains of papers hanging from the cabinets. Home: this slightly small, busting at the seams and rambunctious house is my home. It's seen me annoyed, it's seen me at my worst, and it's watched me run off at my mouth about numerous topics. Even living in the city, when I come back, I'm overwhelmed by how much the house gets to me, because it's made me who I am in a way. I can imagine my dad sitting in his office, reading a book in his old rocker; Mom eavesdropping, running the house in her overbearing manner and constantly putting her two sense in; Lydia and Kitty fighting about clothes and boys; Mary practicing instruments that she should never again touch; Jane and I being tightly knitted together by our twin connection. This place is home, but at the same time, it's always good to be able to leave when I get tired of all the nuances.<p>

Jane and I hop up on the bar stools near the island while Mom and Dad begin flipping through recipe books and shuffling through items in the fridge.

"So, when did this inspiration for rum balls hit?" I ask, pulling my hair up on my head and pushing my sleeves up. Dad and I have always baked together during the holidays.

"Your grandma and I used to make them together all of the time," Dad said with a faint smile on his face. I can see the reminiscent gleam in his eyes and I know that his mind is playing a film filled with lovely memories.

"Your mother is a horrid cook," Mom interrupted, dishing out any attack she can on Grandma Irene, because Grandma disapproves of everything Mom does.

Dad's eyes flitter to Mom and he looks at her oddly for a moment. "My mother's an excellent cook."

"Unlike some people," I mutter and Jane stifles a chuckle.

"Girls, I had a busy social life when I was younger. I had no time for meaningless tasks such as cooking."

"And it would have been difficult for her to learn to supply for her children," Mary says waltzing into the kitchen with a book tucked under her room. Her hair is back to brown and cut in a cute, swishy style. She looks normal, pretty even.

Jane gasps and hops down to hug her. "Mary, you look great! I love it!"

They hug before Mary sends a glare my way. "Well, Lizzie over there said I looked like a fire truck, so I figured I should get my act together." Her voice trails off and she looks down at the ground.

I smile at her, raising a brow. "Get your act together? What'd you do?" I hop down and Jane and I surround her, examining her countenance.

Dad's watching her closely while Mom looks completely confused. I love my parents, but I have learned that they are rarely keyed in on what goes on in our lives.

"I met someone." Mary looks sheepishly between Jane and I.

"And?" Jane questions, smiling softly, as she lifts Mary's chin, looking her in the eyes. It's an endearing gesture, very intimate and full of sisterly love. It reminds me of how Jane is so passionate and loyal to all those she loves.

"I got a job giving music lessons downtown." Mary snorts and then laughs when she sees my eyes widen. "Lizzie, you know that I suck at playing, but I know my stuff and I love teaching people how to play instruments."

Mom bursts into a fit of laughter, while the rest of us congratulate her.

"Who knew all of those music lessons would've paid off?" Mom asks and I glare at her, before hugging Mary.

"That's great," I say, "I'm glad you're doing something productive now besides dying your hair ridiculous colors."

She smacks me upside the head and I poke her in the belly. "Hey, I'm kidding, but you're meant to be a brunette, sis. Now I'm not ashamed to take you in public."

"We're happy for you, Mary." Dad adds in, before going back to his cook book. "Who wants to help me?"

* * *

><p>"Red, Charlotte? Red? I will look horrible in red. I'm pale! I can just hear people saying 'Did Charlie invite a fire truck?' 'Why no, it's that a Elizabeth girl, that sister to his beautiful girlfriend.'" I glare at her and shove the red dress back at her and she shakes her head.<p>

"Try it on." She pushes me towards the fitting room. "You have dark hair and pale skin – red will look amazing on you. Plus, it's more of a burgundy. Fire trucks are flaming red. Got it?"

I slammed the fitting room door and started ripping my clothes off of me. Red! Elizabeth Bennet wearing a red dress! I step into the material and yank it up around me. "Char! Zip me up!"

I unlock the door and she gives the zipper a tug and the material tightens around my figure. The dress has one sleeve and the torso is covered in black lace. At my hips it flares slightly, but not too much – just enough to add some curves to my slender figure. I do like it – it looks really good. Surprisingly.

"Lizzie, get the dress," Charlotte emphasizes with her hands and then puts her hands around my waist. "How are you so tiny? Especially after Christmas."

"Ma didn't feed us this year. Rum balls were more important." Charlotte looks at me oddly in the mirror and I wave my hand. "Don't ask, long story."

I bite my lip, examining myself move thoroughly. "It does look good on my hips, because I have none. And it helps my "huge bust" – at least my mother would say I have huge boobs."

"Um, no, you barely have a chest." Charlotte fluffs her hair in the mirror, checking herself out.

"It's bigger than Jane's…" I turn around and face Charlotte. "We can stop talking about boobs now."

Charlotte shrugs. "You started this conversation."

I raise my brow and look at myself in the mirror again. "I'll get it."

"Mr. Greg Wickham won't know what hit him," Charlotte says smiling and those words seem prophetic in a way.

* * *

><p>Georgiana Darcy – Georgie to everybody, because she hated having a name with four syllables – was easy to love. She was beautiful, of course, looking nearly identical to her older brother, but she was loyal and loved to have fun. Upon first meeting her, she was quiet and timid, but generally warmed right up to people. When her parents died in a car crash, Will became overprotective while many things avalanched in their lives, but she never grew tired of Will's devotion in raising her.<p>

Wednesday before the party at Charlie's, Georgie met a friend for lunch, wanting to catch up seeing as they were both in the area for Christmas break. During the meal, Georgie thought she saw Lizzie enter the restaurant with a friend, but wasn't positive, until she heard them behind her.

"I don't know if it was stupidity or spite – I invited him, though."

"Well, I like Will, Lizzie, I think he's great. I think he might come off as being arrogant, but I think he's quiet." Georgie liked this friend; she could really see past Will's moody exterior.

"Georgie thinks Will's great and Georgie must take after Will – she has too. I don't know if inviting Greg was the greatest thing – what if a fancy ice sculpture gets pummeled because a fist fight breaks out?"

Georgie freezes in her seat and tries not to cry. Lizzie knew Greg, she _invited _him. _If he's there…_

"Ashley, I have to go," Georgie whispered, grabbing her coat and purse, running out of the place, trying not to draw attention to herself.

* * *

><p>"Char, I know I shouldn't have done it, I feel terrible." I rest my head on my hands and stare at the menu in front of me. "I don't want to lose Georgie's friendship, but I sort of did it out of spite to hurt Will.<p>

Charlotte looks at me. "I think this will really mess things up if you ask me."

"I know."

I knew I shouldn't have done it, yet I did. It's just one of those things where you have to learn from your mistakes. If I lose Georgie's friendship, I'll acknowledge my idiocy, but I'll try to fix it. She's too great to lose because I did something stupid.


End file.
